Iridescent
by HorcruxCharisma
Summary: Hermione Granger runs into Draco Malfoy in a Muggle coffee shop and things take a turn for the worst. Discovering his reasons for living in Muggle London for almost two years now, the pair end up in a race to save all mudbloods & the Wizarding World.
1. Prologue

A/N: **Hey guys! This is my first official Dramione fanfic on here, so I'm sorry if my work is a little off. I like to keep the people in character, with the exception of new things coming up in the story where they maybe let loose and such. Other details will be slightly off, such as ages and what not, but it won't be too serious or effect anything. **

**Please try to review(: I'd love to know your opinion! **

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><p>P R O L O G U E<p>

Draco Malfoy tugged lightly on his itchy scarf, waiting for the cars to pass by before he crossed the busy street. He buried his free hand deep into his coat pocket, licking way the cracking dryness of his lips. The cold winter air blew slowly across his face and pail hair. His heels practically jumped with impatience, his sight only on the warm coffee shop across the street.

Another car passed and Draco waited a few more seconds before the street was clear to pass. He did so quickly; his hair blew back slightly against his forehead as he picked up a light jog and stopped at the entrance on the other side.

The small bell jingled as he walked in slowly, allowing the warmth and smell of the shop overpower his body. He breathed in the aroma and clutched the book in his hand a little tighter.

"Hello!" The woman at the strange machine called a cash register, said.

Draco gave a bland smile and nodded, finding a seat next to the front window that looked out onto the street he had previously crossed. He set his book down and unraveled his scarf, tossing it on the table sluggishly.

"Can I get you something?" The voice of the woman startled Draco and he looked up quickly at her smiling face from his chair.

Merlin, she never left him alone when he came here. His one and only flaw of this place was her. He didn't even know her name, yet everything about her happy presence made Draco want to sulk in his misery for the rest of eternity. "No," He told her flatly. "I'm fine, thanks."

Folding up the _Daily Prophet_ and sliding it into her small handbag before anyone else saw, Hermione Granger still had the small article running through her mind. _Draco Malfoy: Have You Seen This Wizard_? She'd seen this article everyday for months but every time she decided to read over it once more, it seemed to mind boggle her. A Malfoy missing? Ridiculous. Maybe hiding—but defiantly not missing as if it were a kidnapping.

Trying her best to let her strict mind relax on the subject, she took a deep much needed breath. Ginny and Harry's wedding was exhausting to plan. Mrs. Weasley had insisted on having all the females of the family join in on the planning—which meant no one agreed on _anything_. Fleur and Angelina had very different opinions on things, so Hermione had discovered.

The Muggle world had been a great escape. She'd sometimes walk by her old house, just to see what it had grown to look like. It still stood the same for the most part, but her mother had planted beautiful flowers near the front. Other times, Hermione simply sat at a near by park or planted herself in the isles of her favorite book stores.

However, today's weather had Hermione feeling in great need for a hot chocolate. Passing by the slow walking people, she spotted a coffee shop she hadn't recognized before. It was quaint and seemed to only have a few costumers in it from what Hermione could see at her distance.

The witch walked in quietly and was greeted by a smiling woman at the counter. She was very pretty and reminded Hermione of Lavender Brown. The thought tasted like lemon to her brain. Nonetheless, Ron had chosen her over Lavender anyway. It might have not lasted, but back then it was everything. Hermione laughed quietly to herself. _Everything_, huh?

"Can I get you anything?" The woman asked nicely.

"Uhm," Hermione looked up at the menu then back at the patient woman. "A small hot chocolate with extra chocolate would be fine, please." The woman nodded and got to it, leaving Hermione standing at the counter, deep in her own thoughts.

Turning to lean her hip lightly against the counter, Hermione looked out the large front view window and watched the cars pass by smoothly. She then noticed a man sitting at a two chaired table by himself. He was slouching over the table side, his elbows resting on the table and his hands racked through his platinum hair while his eyes skimmed over a book. He wore nothing extravagant—dark jeans and a black sweater.

The door of the shop opened and a burst of wind rushed in. Hermione's skin froze instantly and the napkins from the man's table blew out and hit her feet. Once the door shut again, Hermione bent down to retrieve them.

Looking up, napkins in hand, Hermione found herself in a locked gaze with sharp silver eyes. Her breath caught and she felt cold again. Despite her shock, she was able to crack a smile. "Well if it isn't Draco Malfoy himself."


	2. Chapter 1

"Well aren't I just a lucky bloke." Draco's lips bent in sarcasm, his attention going back to the pages in his book.

Hermione let out a small laugh under her breath. She walked over and placed the napkins back on his table neatly, "I'd usually be the one reading in a place like this." The witch commented, watching his long pale eyelashes move as he blinked.

"Yeah," Draco was quiet for a moment. "Of course you would. You read to _live_; I simply do it as a hobby." He said, a smug grin on his face as he avoided her face.

"I do not read to live, Malfoy." She replied, folding her arms across her chest. It was then she remembered the article. His picture flashed across her memory. He looked different now; his hair longer and his face had gained a little more life. She realized his clothes were more down to earth now than they had been before, back in the Wizarding World. Was this the same Draco she knew when they were kids? "What are you doing here?"

Draco let his silver eyes wander up to her face, "I don't believe I owe you any explanations, Granger."

_Well, his _attitude_ sure hasn't changed_, she thought.

Hermione sat down in the seat across from him, her stare never leaving him. "_The_ Draco Malfoy sitting in a _Muggle_ coffee shop reading a book in _Muggle_ clothes . . ." She wondered off, amazed by her own words. It all seemed so surreal. "Are you ill?" She asked quietly.

"Bloody hell." Draco rolled his eyes, "Why don't you leave me alone?" He sneered, "Leave it to a Gryffindor to throw themselves into other people's business without being invited. This isn't a tea party, Granger. You can't show up in a nice dress with white gloves completely out of the blue and except any sugar in your tea."

"There's an article in the _Daily Prophet_. It's been there for the longest time—almost _two years _now—and it's all about you. Some people think you got murdered, or killed yourself. Your mother hasn't said a word. She hasn't left the house in a while, according to others." Hermione informed him, ignoring his remark. _You just fell of the face of the planet_, she almost added.

"I am aware." He said flatly, going back to his reading.

Hermione's lips folded into a thin line and then parted again, "You're a Malfoy. Isn't it practically your job to make some sort of extravagant appearance everywhere you go?"

The bright blonde snorted, "That's Potter's job." He looked at her coldly, "And according to what you just said—I'm doing a fine job at my extravagant appearances if I've been in the _Daily Prophet_ for almost two years now."

For a second, she was at a loss for words. Only Draco Malfoy could throw off her pride due to his bloody talent for comebacks. Maybe she wasn't used to it. Ron had always been the same when she used her intelligence against him in an argument—quiet. Harry . . . well, Harry didn't really argue back. He was mature about things for the most part. No one could really blame him, growing up the way he did, after all.

"You—" Hermione tucked some loose curls behind her ear.

"Here's your hot chocolate, miss." The woman from the counter cut in, placing the hot cup on the table near Hermione. She smiled brightly when Draco glanced up uncomfortably. Hermione noticed and grinned to herself. Maybe his attitude was one of the worst on the planet—and his personality sure didn't win any awards—but no one could really deny he didn't have a certain charm. Hermione was sure the woman wouldn't disagree judging by the way she was looking at Draco.

"Thank you." Hermione told her politely. The woman only seemed to glance over with a quick 'you're welcome' nod while staring ridiculously at Draco before taking her leave. She giggled, "She likes you."

Draco's upper lip curled into a disgusted manner. "As if I couldn't tell." He grimaced. "Every time I come here she's practically attached to my hip. She stares and she attempts to flirt. Not to mention she asks if I want anything every five minutes. I wouldn't be surprised if one day I wake up, without my trousers, in _her_ bed." His voice was low, knowing she was probably trying to listen to what he was saying.

"That seems a little conspicuous to me." Hermione commented, taking a cautious sip of her hot chocolate. "Malfoy not up for a guilt-free shag? What are the chances?" She teased, not knowing why the words were slipping from her tongue. She was actually having a semi playful conversation in a Muggle coffee shop with a Malfoy.

The man across from her gave a smile, but it didn't quite reach his gorgeous silver eyes. "Your impressions of me are rather incorrect, Granger. I'm not some sort of magical man whore." He implied flatly.

"I'll believe it when I see it." She said dismissively; too busy fiddling with the giant marshmellow in her drink to think about what she had said.

Draco glanced up, a grin grew slowly across his features, and this time it reflected against his eyes. "The Brightest Witch of her age care to see _The_ Draco Malfoy have sex—" He paused as she looked at him, a bit wide eyed. "—or hold off on sex?" He continued on before she could reply. "I don't know, Granger. I usually like to shag my women senseless in the dark—less mental attachment that way—but if you were there, I'd more than likely have to leave the lights on or have a distracting_ Lumos_ in the corner of my eye the entire time."

"Merlin, Malfoy!" Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically, taking another sip of her drink. "I meant the second one. _Only_." She told him sternly.

Draco closed his book, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I never asked you to believe me. I could care less about what you, Potter and the Weasel say about me in your free time." He resorted casually, standing and slipping back on his outdoor wear, including his itchy scarf.

There was a pang of sadness in the pit of Hermione's stomach. The fact she felt herself not wanting Draco to leave just yet, made her shutter silently. What was wrong with her? Nothing, of course. She just happened to have a nice teasing conversation with a sworn enemy. Totally natural. There was a thought in the back of her mind, however. Would she ever see him again? She'd thought all those years at Hogwarts would be enough. Maybe she'd been wrong.

Hermione looked up at him just in time. "Where—"

"See you around, Granger." Draco said, not so much on the flattering side. He gripped his book tight against his side and made his way out the door. The bell jingled, followed by a small rush of cold winter air, and Hermione watched him cross the street before turning around a building and disappearing.

She could have gone after him, she knew, but that would be just utterly silly, wouldn't it?

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><p>AN: **Yes, Hermione might seem a bit on the friendly side to one Malfoy in particular. Who's to say she wouldn't be? The war is over and people are supposed to be happier, right?**


	3. Chapter 2

"You saw _who_? And did _what_?" Ginny gasped. Her eyes had widened at the first syllable.

Hermione shrugged it off, "Just Pansy Parkinson." She lied calmly. "She was trying to start something."

Ginny snorted and returned to her reflection in the mirror. She was preparing her makeup for the dinner her and Harry were going to attend tonight with fellow Aurors from the Ministry. Hermione could tell she was a bit overstressed with the wedding details because her excitement towards this dinner wasn't very high. "That must have been an eyesore." Ginny joked with a cold sense of humor.

Hermione grinned, nevertheless. "I guess she was."

"Well, that explains why you completely missed today's events. Apparently, women that are weeks into their second pregnancy, _really_ shouldn't help with the food tasting." Ginny said with a smile on her face, referring to Fleur.

The brunette let out a laugh, "Oh really? I'm sorry I missed _that _chaos." She joked; enjoying the filling in Ginny was giving. Hermione wasn't completely regretful she had missed the plans of today. She had been keeping herself busy in the Muggle World with a very familiar wizard. Not that _that_ sounded weird at all.

When she had returned, she was greeted by a very upset Ginny who interrogated her with a mountain of questions on why she hadn't been with the rest of them. Hermione lied and said she had gone to get some things from her flat, but ran into Pansy Parkinson on the way. Pansy had decided to give her trouble, so she was caught in a dispute against a former Slytherin. It wasn't like Hermione wanted to lie, but something inside told her not to bring up the Draco thing right now. He looked content with his life at the moment and she could only imagine the circus that would go on if the discovery of his whereabouts slipped.

The Weasley—soon to be Potter—girl just shrugged a shoulder and continued on putting her makeup on manually. "There's always tomorrow's plans."

"And those are . . . ?" Hermione felt her self sink a little on her friend's bed. She wasn't exactly looking forward to anymore wedding stuff.

"Nothing to extravagant!" Ginny assured her, standing and searching for her dress while she stood in a robe and slippers. "You, Fleur, Angelina, and I are going out to get a quick brunch, and then we'll go look at center pieces. Oh, and I invited Luna as well." She finished, "After that, and possibly a little shopping since Angelina still needs shoes, we can come back here and have dinner. Charlie's coming in, so it'll be nice to catch up with him."

Hermione had dozed off a bit after Ginny had talked about brunch. She thought about eating in a small café and began picturing Draco's grin as he chuckled back in the coffee shop, the way his eyes flashed up to hers under his long pail lashes. The thought was quite barbaric, but it wouldn't go away. Not until Ginny waved her hand in front of Hermione's face, decorated in a blank expression.

"What? Oh, sorry." Hermione said unevenly. "What about Charlie?"

Ginny was silent for a moment before she spoke. "He's coming in for the wedding. It'll be nice to catch up with him." She repeated, spotting her dress and beginning to maneuver it on. Hermione didn't mind. She and Ginny had shared a room multiple times in the past. Dressing in front of one another wasn't unnatural in their eyes anymore.

Once she finished, Hermione looked at Ginny and smiled. "You look great." She told her sincerely.

"Thanks, 'Mione." Ginny's eyes twinkled.

Hermione had never really seen Ginny get so girly before Harry proposed. It was scary, really. Ginny being so overly fashionable lately just proved how much things were changing. Now days, changes didn't happen in little steps. They just happened. There was nothing gradual about it. Ginny was days away from getting married. Fleur was pregnant. Ron had become a professional quidditch player, gone away for practices the majority of his time. Harry was a big time Auror.

And Hermione had run into the one and only Draco Malfoy in a Muggle coffee shop.

"Oh!" Ginny suddenly propped up straight from her putting on her heels. "That reminds me! Would you mind watching Teddy tonight?" She asked with deep plead in her voice. "I'm really sorry to just throw this at you but I totally forgot and Teddy gets to be a bit too much for Mum at times and—"

Hermione smiled, "I'd love to." She added, "I have no plans anyway. Plus, I haven't seen Teddy in a while. I miss the little bugger."

Ginny let out a sigh of relief, "Thank you _so_ much, 'Mione!"

There was a pop in the room and both women looked over at a messy haired Harry Potter, holding a wiggling Teddy Lupin. Hermione smiled at the sight of her famous friend. "Harry!" She restrained from hugging the man, seeing as Teddy was giving him enough trouble as it was.

"Down! Down!" Teddy wailed, his arms moving above his head while he stretched out his body longer, attempting to free himself from Harry's arms.

"Please." Harry instructed as best as he could. "You need to say _please_." His voice was calm, but by the look on his face Hermione could tell he had had a wild time trying to get ready for this dinner with Teddy around.

"Now!" Teddy screamed, his face scrunching up, threating to spill tears from his big eyes.

Ginny hid a smile as she searched for a proper coat to match her dress. Harry noticed and gave her a glare, placing Teddy on the ground. Smoothing out his professional dress shirt and pants, Harry smiled at Hermione. "Hello, 'Mione!" He greeted, exchanging a brief hug.

"'Mione!" Teddy giggled, wrapping his small arms around her leg tightly. "'Mione!"

"Hey, Teddy!" Hermione said brightly, kneeling down to pick him up. He let her willingly and hugged her tight. She kissed his cheek and he giggled, returning the kiss in a messy, slobbery way.

"Won-Won?" Teddy spoke, looking at Hermione.

The room grew a bit quieter and Hermione refused to let herself frown, for Teddy's sake. She did secretly wish Ron was here, but he was at practice. Always at practice. That was his life now, and Hermione had accepted that. At least, she told herself she did. Two years ago. The darker part of her would rather have him away playing quidditch for a living and not be with her than be snogging Lavender Brown every two minutes. "Won-Won's not here right now, Teddy." Hermione said sweetly, stroking his florescent hair.

"Where—?" He tilted his head to the side, searching for an answer.

"So, Harry, you want to put Teddy down for bed before we Floo?" Ginny asked quickly, desperately trying to change the atmosphere.

"No!" Teddy pouted, cuddling up against Hermione in protest.

Harry chuckled, and took off his glasses. He began wiping off his lenses while he spoke, "It's up to you, Hermione. Usually a good bedtime story does the trick."

Hermione watched Harry slide back on his glasses and hang an arm around Ginny's shoulders. "I think Teddy and I will just head back to my flat for a while." She smiled simply. The two and a half year old Lupin smiled brightly and clapped his hands together, flashing his small baby teeth.

"If you insist!" Harry gave her a quick goodbye hug and leaned in to plant a kiss on Teddy's head. Teddy shielding his head in the bend of Hermione's neck and she laughed. "We'll work on your manners when I get back, Mr. Lupin!" Harry gently jabbed his arm with a finger.

"Come on," Ginny laughed, linking her arm with Harry's. "We'll be late."

The four walked down the Burrow stairs. Hermione and Teddy waved at the couple before they were replaced with a puff of green smoke. Afterwards, Mrs. Weasley packed Hermione some snacks for Teddy and sent them on their way with a hugs and kisses.

Hermione and Teddy arrived at her flat. Teddy immediately wanted down, "Down, pwease?" He asked innocently. She smiled and let him down, watching him take off to the living room with his bag of toys. "Juice, pwease?" He said, playing the toy brooms and snitch he had.

"Of course!" Hermione began to walk towards the small, but tolerable, kitchen. "Stay right there, Teddy." She directed before she took any further steps. Preparing his pumpkin juice from the bag of goodies Mrs. Weasley gave them, Hermione glanced back over at the small living area to see Teddy gone. His toys lay on the rug, along with his shoes. Her lips parted and she stopped her actions. "Teddy?" She called.

The flat was silent and Hermione rushed over to the room. She searched under the couch and behind the armchair. Teddy wasn't there.

There was a sudden scream from outside and Hermione jumped up, taken back by the sudden burst of noise. It was a woman. Probably a neighbor. Her scream was a bloody awful thing to hear. It was loud and sharp, still ringing in Hermione's ears. She would have gone out to see if she could help in anyway, but Teddy was her first priority.

Quickly, with her wand in hand, Hermione made her way into her bedroom and searched beneath the bed and inside her wardrobe. Nothing. Her heart began to beat a little faster but she refused to panic. There weren't very many places he could have gone. The front door was locked, as were all the windows.

"'Mione!"

Hermione's head turned to the name and she spotted Teddy standing in the doorway of her bathroom. He was wearing her pair of white fuzzy slippers. Hermione looked at the bugger, dressed in a thick orange sweater with a T in the middle (most likely a gift from Mrs. Weasley), dark trousers and _her_ fuzzy slippers. She sighed with a smile and walked over to the toddler, taking him in her arms.

"You scared me!" She said, kissing his soft cheek.

Teddy looked at her, "And noise?" He asked, his eyes big with curiosity.

Hermione held him close and looked out the window by her bed. Below, she could see a street faintly in the dark night. The slick shield of water on the ground reflected against the moon's light in a shade of blue and Hermione saw nothing but the shadows of the other buildings around the corner her flat was located on.

The witch knew exactly what noise Teddy had been talking about. The scream. He had heard it too and she could only imagine what he was thinking. Unfortunately, there was no one outside she could see from her window, and she was sure that's where it had come from.

"Who?" The small boy rested his head on her shoulder, feeling safe and comfortable in her arms.

"I don't know," Hermione said slowly, not wanting to worry him. "Maybe someone was just playing games." She offered, close to a lie. Teddy remained silent and Hermione figured that satisfied him enough for no further questions.

Hermione retrieved Teddy's pumpkin juice from her kitchen and gave it to him. He smiled and sat with her on the couch, her fuzzy slippers still attached to his small feet, while drinking his juice quietly. "Story?" Teddy looked at up her, a small pumpkin juice mustache decorating his upper lip.

"What story would you like?" She asked, preparing to grab her story book she was given by Dumbledore on the coffee table.

"Harrwie and the drwagon!" Teddy replied, taking another sip of his juice and wiggled his legs.

"Harry and the Dragon?" Hermione lifted a brow. "I'm afraid I haven't heard that one before." She told him sweetly.

Teddy slipped off the couch, placing his juice on the coffee table and began climbing back up on the couch without Hermione's help. Her slippers fell of his feet and he stayed standing on next to her on the cushion. "Harrwie beat the meanie drwagon, 'Mione!" He declared with a determined expression across his face.

"Oh did he?" She asked, a bright smile across her lips. She held on to one of his hands, making sure he didn't tip over and fall.

Teddy nodded and spread his arms out wide, "He jumped high and got it!" Imitating the story, the Lupin took a leap and landed on the couch pillow in Hermione's lap.

Hermione laughed. Harry really _did_ tell the kid the best kind of stories. She remembered everything about that challenge back during their Fourth Year. It was frightening and capturing at the same time. "What next, Teddy?"

The kid thought a moment, "He flew in the sky!" He told her, lying in her lap. "Then he gots the egg!" Excitement sparkled in his eyes and he sat up. He looked at Hermione, "And 'Mione wasn't scared anymore." He finished, wrapping his arms around her neck tight.

Hermione's eyes softened and she hugged him back, "I like that story." She told him as he pulled away and sat next to her. Teddy yawned and Hermione called his blanket with an _Accio_. The toddler grabbed it from the air with a wide smile, obviously loving the sight of magic.

Before she knew it, Teddy was cuddled up against her leg with his blanket. His eyes fluttered shut after a few more stories and he was sound asleep.

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><p>Draco Malfoy woke from his sleep with a heart beating rapidly. His hair stuck to the sweat on his forehead and he felt sticky against his bed sheets. The room itself felt like it was melting him alive. He pushed the covers away and stood in his boxers, attempting to take deep breaths.<p>

Another nightmare.

Groaning, Draco walked over to his bathroom, set his wand down near the faucet, and splashed cold water onto his face. He scrubbed the palm of his hands over his eyes and cheeks as if he were washing away the visions running through his head. All he could see were words. Voldemort and more words. Then there were Death Eaters—thousands of them. They were killing people. Mudbloods, as he heard one of them say.

In the nightmare, he couldn't see anyone's face. He just heard screams and saw those horrifying masks. There were bright lights coming from their wands, killing people from left and right. He only saw his mother's face. She was crying and calling his name in the middle of a death valley. Limbs and blood covered the ground around him.

Then he saw Hermione.

He was sure it was her. Those curls. That laugh . . . It couldn't have been anyone else.

There was a sudden sound of warped air in the living room and Draco backed away from his sink. His hand instinctively gripped his wand tight. His fingers curling so tight it almost hurt. He walked cautiously out of the bathroom and peeked through his open bedroom door.

A figure appeared and held up its wand, "_Confringo_!"

Draco's eyes widened and he held up his wand faster than he ever had before, "_Finite Incantatem_!" He shouted and there was a small puff in front of him, signaling the blasting curse had been stopped. His mouth moved quicker than his brain, "_Expelliarmus_!" He shouted and the figure's wand flew to the ground.

The figure began to retreat and attempted to _Accio_ his wand, but Draco moved quicker. "_Avada Kedavra_!"

A flash of light appeared and the stranger blocked the curse just in time. Without another spell cast, he disappeared, leaving Draco breathing for dear life. _What the hell was that_, Draco thought frantically. Thinking on the wiser side, he quickly cast a protective ward around his flat.

The remainder of the night was spent in an eerie silence. Draco never left his wand, and stayed put in the same place. Whatever—or _whoever_—attacked him, he was sure would attack again. They hadn't stopped back in the Wizarding World. He doubted it was any different here.


	4. Chapter 3

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I can't."

"Harry Potter!" Ginny put both hands on her hips, "When were you planning on telling me this? When it was time for the girls and me to head for the Floo?" She demanded, losing her patience.

Harry sighed and pushed up his glasses a bit. "I didn't know I wouldn't be able to watch Teddy!" He defended, slowly losing his own patience.

Hermione watched the two, sitting along side Luna on the couch in the Burrow. Angelina and Fleur were standing, trying to ignore the engaged couple's argument and start one of their own. By the way Harry and Ginny had been acting Hermione could tell the wedding was getting to them. More than it should have, perhaps.

"The Ministry called me in last minute, I promise." He said, much calmer now.

Ginny let her hands drop, letting her defenses down seeing as Harry had already done the same. There was no sense in fighting. "These preparations have to be done today, Harry. Mum and Dad are out today; meeting with Charlie for lunch and everyone else is busy. I'd take Teddy with us, but we won't be back till later tonight. He won't be able to be out that long . . ." She sighed, going over things in her head once more.

Hermione stood, "I'll watch him."

All eyes darted towards her faster than an Unforgivable Curse.

"No, Hermione." Harry said flatly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You watched him last night for Ginny and I and—"

"And we were fine!" His friend interjected smoothly. "It's okay, I'll watch Teddy. I really don't mind." Ginny's face fell a bit and Hermione added, "Not to say I don't want to join you ladies, but as you said before, Ginny, these plans have to get done today. I just want your day to be perfect, and if that means I have to watch Teddy again—it's okay." She smiled and Ginny stayed quiet for a moment.

Finally, the redhead spoke, "Fine," She sighed, "But this is the _last_ time you're ditching us, Hermione Granger."

Hermione let out a small laugh, "Agreed."

"Alright then," Angelina took a step towards the fireplace. "Ready?" She looked at Ginny.

Fleur and Luna followed behind Angelina and Ginny nodded, giving Harry a quick peck on the cheek before speaking, "Let's go." She stopped and gave Hermione a hug, "Thanks, 'Mione." She whispered and went off for the days events.

"A thanks from me too." Harry turned to her with a simple smile across his lips. "You saved a whole lot of trouble today."

Hermione shrugged a shoulder, "It was nothing." She grabbed her handbag from the couch and asked, "Is Teddy still sleeping?"

Harry looked up the stairs then back at Hermione. "I would think so. He—"

"'Mione!" Teddy appeared at the top of the stairs with a big smile. He slowly began trotting down the stairs and Harry chuckled.

"Okay," He shook his head. "I was wrong."

The witch laughed, "Do you mind if we make a few runs to some Muggle shops?" She asked Teddy's guardian.

Teddy reached the bottom and hugged Hermione's leg before running off and finding his toy snitch on the ground near the kitchen table. He began playing intently and Harry didn't see anything wrong with her request. "Doesn't sound like a problem to me," He said casually. "Where to?"

"Oh," Hermione thought a moment. "No where extravagant. There's not much to do at my flat and I know a nice Muggle ice cream shop in town near my old house."

"Sounds like fun," Harry walked over and knelt down by Teddy. He planted a kiss on the top of the kid's head and walked over to the Floo. "I wish I could join, but sadly, work gets the upper hand." He joked. "Try not to get into too much trouble. I'll be by later to pick him up before our dinner with the family, eh?"

Hermione nodded and waved him goodbye.

* * *

><p>Walking the streets in the Muggle World felt nice. The wind didn't blow as hard and the ice in the air wasn't as skin chilling.<p>

The people passing by didn't fail to give short glances at the pair walking. Teddy's hair attracted attention from most. Hermione would just smile and grip Teddy's hand a little tighter. Eventually, the wind began to pick up a little and she slid on Teddy's winter cap with the fuzz ball on top to keep him warm. Since his hair was out of sight, the looks and whispers had gone to a halt.

Teddy, however, just enjoyed his strawberry ice cream. He had it smothered around his mouth, and a little on his sweater. While he ate, he walked a little slower and Hermione glanced down at him from time to time. She always smiled when she saw how messy he had become while enjoying his frozen treat.

When it came time to cross the street, Hermione knelt and took Teddy in her arms securely. He trusted her enough to continue on eating and not mind the obscure moving metal machines near him. Hermione crossed the street quickly and set Teddy down once they reached the coffee shop entrance. Looking up, she noticed the shop actually had a name. G&S. It wasn't a very casual name, Hermione observed. None the less, she was thirsty and it was convenient.

"Eat?" Teddy suddenly asked, poking at the ice cream cone.

Hermione nodded, "Yes, you can eat that." She took his hand in hers and led them into the shop. The bell jingled and Teddy looked up, a bit startled. Hermione just smiled and he went back to eating.

"Hello!" A different woman at the counter smiled. She was a bit plump, but had very pretty features along with incredibly straight hair. "Can I get you anything?" She asked politely.

Hermione looked around and spotted Draco. He was facing the doors direction this time and his nose was buried in what looked like the same book as last time. His hair was a bit frazzled, Hermione noted. "Oh, uhm, yes," She answered and led Teddy with her to the counter. "May I have water please? Thank you." The woman nodded and disappeared somewhere to retrieve her order.

"Stalking me, Granger?" Draco sneered, glancing up from his book at the sound of her voice.

Hermione turned, Teddy's hand still tightly in hers. "Funny, Malfoy." She replied. "This just happens to be a lovely little shop, if I do say so myself. Maybe your taste isn't so despiteful after all."

Draco didn't reply, but looked at Teddy, his eyes narrowing a bit. It wasn't until then that Hermione remembered Teddy was technically related to Draco. She felt a rush of awkward feelings in the pit of her stomach. "I didn't know you were a mother, Granger. Didn't waste any time with that one, did you?" He said.

A bit confused, Hermione looked down and realized Teddy still had his cap on. She guessed Malfoy assumed it was hers and Ron's since he couldn't see Teddy's natural hair color. That thought was a bit . . . uncomfortable.

"No," Hermione let out a small, weak laugh. "His name is Teddy. Teddy Lupin." Draco's eyes narrowed more and he turned back to his book. She sighed and took Teddy to the table. Sitting, she pulled the toddler in her lap and took off his cap. "What are you reading?" She asked after an ocean of silence.

The platinum blonde stayed quiet for a moment, but then parted his lips. "Just something to pass the time." He answered shortly. Hermione noticed how worn out he looked. She could see dark circles under his eyes and his skin had gone pail tremendously. He looked tired and grumpy all together.

"Are you . . ." She began and then paused. "Feeling alright?"

He glanced up, "Why would you care?"

"Done!" Teddy announced, letting out a small burp.

Hermione reached over and grabbed some napkins to wipe off his ice cream stained mouth. "Hold still,"

Draco watched, to his dismay, as Hermione scrubbed as gently as she could at Teddy's face. "Merlin, Granger, what did you let the kid eat?_ Paint_?"

"Don't be a wanker, Malfoy." She glared, finishing up her cleaning.

"What are you even doing here anyway?"

She lifted a brow, "What am _I_ doing here? What about you? As if you weren't aware this is Muggle London, Malfoy."

Draco's jaw set a little tighter. He had been looking at the window as she spoke, only half paying attention. "Granger." He sounded as if he were speaking as a warning, "Leave me alone." With that, he stood and closed his book, preparing to leave.

Hermione looked up, a bit startled at his sudden change in mood. Teddy noticed and looked at Draco with mean eyes, "Not nice!" He said, pointing a finger.

"Oh, Teddy," Hermione directed his small hand down, "It isn't polite to point." She caught Draco's eyes with her own, "But he's right. What's the matter with you?" When he began to walk away, Teddy jumped from Hermione's lap and ran after the Malfoy. "Teddy!" She grabbed their stuff and rushed after him, missing the woman at the counter with her ordered water.

Draco walked quickly, not seeing the small boy running after him with stout legs. _Those men across the street, they didn't look like just any Muggle men_, Draco thought to himself. Someone had found him—or thought they had. That's why he had people attacking him in his bloody underwear and following him around like some sort of deranged cat.

"Teddy! Stop this instant!"

Glancing back, he saw Granger running towards him, her hand outstretched to something near the ground. He looked down briefly and saw Teddy close to his legs. He turned the corner, hoping to get farther away, but found himself at a dead end.

No Muggles in sight, he prepared to Apparate, only to feel a tug on his trousers. "Bloody—!"

Hermione leaped just in time and caught the back of Teddy's sweater before there was a swoop of air, her body was deformed and her vision slurred. Once she could breathe again, she opened her eyes and found herself in a living room that wasn't hers or the Weasleys'.

"Damnit, Granger." She heard Draco seethe, "Look what you've done!"

"_Me_?" She accused, high pitched. Hermione's eyes shot around the room, "Where's Teddy?" She demanded.

"Right behind you." He said flatly, his lip curled in annoyance.

"Teddy?" She spun around and found the little bugger snooping through a large pile of papers on the floor. He ripped some and scattered many. "Teddy!" Hermione pulled him into her arms tightly. "I'm so glad you're alright!"

Draco rushed over to the window near his kitchen and looked down between the dark curtains. Within seconds he pulled them shut and went to do the same with the others. He didn't say a word and kicked away anything that stood in this way.

"For Merlin's sake, Malfoy, what are you doing?" Hermione asked, feeling Teddy begin to squirm in her arms.

"Quiet." He told her sharply. "_Accio_ wand." He called from the floor where he arrived. He gripped it tighter than he had during the night when he was attacked.

Hermione's lips parted to speak, but she quickly closed them when there was a sound of shattered glass outside. A man's holler followed and Draco looked at her. He put his index finger to his lips and peeked out the window he located next to him.

When he looked down, he was sure of it now.

Death Eaters.

Two of them, he counted. They had killed a man in between the buildings near his flat. They must have put a _Repello Muggletum_ charm up because no others were looking their way.

"Malfoy?" Hermione whispered, struggling with Teddy to keep quiet.

Draco gave her a look at went back to his watching. The Death Eaters weren't in sight and he began to get a bit nervous. Bloody Gryffindors always had to get in the way.

Teddy managed to pry himself from Hermione and landed on the ground with a thump. Both Draco and Hermione shot their heads towards him in a worried manner. Either concern was different. Draco was now sure they'd be attacked; while Hermione, on the other hand, was worried he had been hurt.

Hermione grabbed Teddy quickly, "Teddy, we have to be quiet, do you understand?" She spoke in the faintest whisper. The boy looked at her with a blank expression then smiled. However, he wasn't smiling at her—but something behind her.

"_Stupefy_!" Draco lashed, and Hermione spun around to see a Death Eater fall to the ground, its wand rolling off to the side.

Another Death Eater appeared and held out its own wand. A _Flipendo_ was fired and Draco hit the wall behind him roughly. Fortunately, his wand stayed laced in the palm of his hand and he attempted to stand, ignoring the new pain radiating near his spine.

The Death Eater moved to attack again before Draco got the chance to think of another spell, but Hermione had already pulled out her own wand. "_Locomotor Mortis_!" She recited, and the enemy fell to the ground.

Draco, on his feet, watch the Death Eater fall then spotted its partner moving for Hermione and Teddy. "_Repello_!" He cut off the curse before it reached the two. Before he knew it, he was between the Death Eater and Hermione. "_Petrificus Totalus_!"

Hermione blinked and the Death Eater was on the ground, quietly groaning in pain. The other was up now and heading for Draco. She had had just about enough, "_Obliviate_!"

The man fell back once more and touched his head, looking dizzy. "What . . . what am I doing here?" He asked dazedly. His mask had fallen and he looked scared, wide eyed. The sound of Teddy's crying didn't help much because the man began backing up slightly, moving away from the three.

"You were just leaving." Draco informed. "You live not to far from here. You have a wife and kids. They're waiting for you at home. Go. Don't even _think_ about returning, do you hear me?" His voice was so venomous even Hermione seemed a bit shaken.

Standing quickly, the man never looked back and vanished out the door, leaving his wand and partner in Draco's flat.

"Don't you think he'll be a little confused," Hermione wondered, holding Teddy close as he wiped away his tears. "Searching for a home and family that never was?" She began to stroke Teddy's hair, bouncing him a little in her arms to calm him down.

Draco did so much as chuckle, "Someone is bound to find him. Help him out." He offered flatly and made his way over to the remaining Death Eater. "I don't understand why you just didn't kill the prat."

"Right," Hermione rolled her eyes, still a bit taken back from the events that had just occurred. "It'd be so very wise to kill a man while holding my best friend's two and a half year old godson, wouldn't it? Not to mention he'd be watching. It isn't exactly in my plans to stun him before he's able to cast his first spell!" She mused.

"Better he sees you kill him than him kill Teddy, eh?" Draco lifted a brow, challenging her to disagree.

Hermione was quiet and Teddy spoke, "Down, down!" He said and she placed him on the ground. Oddly, the Lupin trotted over to Draco and held up his arms.

"He wants you to pick him up," Hermione told him, a small smile growing.

Draco looked at Hermione then down at Teddy, and then back at Hermione. A conflicted expression crossed his face. Stiffly, he leaned down and lifted Teddy of the ground. He wasn't as heavy as Draco thought, but he made sure to juggle Teddy and his wand carefully in both hands. He had never held a child before, and he was sure he was doing it wrong. The kid never complained, though. He just wrapped his arm around Draco's neck and rested his head down on the man's shoulder.

Hermione walked over and rubbed Teddy's back. His soft cheeks were stained with tears as were his eyes swollen from crying. She gave him a small tickle and he giggled. "Can you say Draco?" She asked and ignored Draco's hardening face.

"Dway . . . co . . ." Teddy moved his mouth exaggeratedly, struggling to pronounce the name correctly.

A laugh escaped from Hermione's lips and she smiled at Draco. He just grunted and rolled his eyes. "Draco?" She asked Teddy once more, loving the way he said the name.

"Dway-co!" Teddy giggled with a smile and hugged Draco tight. "Dway-co!"

"Oh, _brilliant_." Draco mumbled, wishing Hermione would take the kid out of his arms already.

Hermione shook her head, curls bouncing as she did so. "Cheer up, Malfoy!" She teased.

There was a groan and Draco's eyes shot over at the Death Eaters direction. He stayed on the ground, his mask shattered, and the spell starting to fade away. Putting Teddy back in Hermione's arms, Draco walked over to the wounded man. "Who are you working for?" He demanded, kicking the man's leg slightly.

"He's hurt, Malfoy." Hermione spoke, keeping her distance. The Death Eater wasn't particularly young or old, but deep in his middle ages. The hair visible was already graying and the skin on his face was beginning to get droop. There was scruff along his jaw and cheeks, the color of silver. The appearance made him look defenseless and weak.

"He'll be fine." Draco hissed, keeping eyes on the man in front of him as he spoke. "Who do you work for? Why are you here?" He asked sternly, gripping the man's dark robes in his fist. His wand was placed dangerously close to the man and he was prepared to blast a curse at any time. These weren't people. They were scum.

"I . . ."The man chocked on his words, "Kill—kill me, p-please." He managed, giving up the last of his hope.

"Not before you tell me what I want to know." Draco replied flatly. "Where you the one that attacked me last night?"

Hermione's eyes widened a bit. He was attacked last night? She put the pieces together mentally, guarding Teddy's line of vision away from the scene. That would explain why Draco had looked so out of it earlier. She could only imagine how he would have coped after getting attacked in the middle of the night by a Death Eater. Wizards that were supposedly extinct.

"He t-told me t-to . . ." The Death Eater shook his head, tears threating to spill from his blood shot eyes. "He'd kill us . . ."

Draco waited a moment, "_Who_? Who would kill you?" He asked in a quieter tone.

The man looked up at Draco, lip quivering. He whispered, "The Chosen One."


	5. Chapter 4

Hermione's lips parted. _The Chosen One_? Was he serious? No, he couldn't have been. "The Chosen One?" She repeated out loud, shaking her head slightly. "Malfoy, what does he mean? What does he mean the 'Chosen One'?"

Draco glanced back at her quickly but kept most of his attention on the Death Eater. "What Chosen One?" He asked, curling his fingers tighter around the man's robes.

"H-he knows . . ." The man began, his voice faint. "He knows everything."

"What does he know?" Draco urged on, licking his lips.

The man swallowed a large lump in his throat, eyeing Hermione and Draco nervously. "I ca—"

"_What_ do you know?" Hermione winced at the volume of Draco's harsh voice.

"There are letters!" He cried, "Letters from the Dark Lord . . ."

Hermione asked, "What letters? What do they say?"

There was silence and Draco nudged the man roughly, "_Answer her_." He warned.

"H-he wrote letters. Letters before he fell . . ." There was a pause and the man avoided the pair of silver and brown eyes staring at him. "I'm not sure what all is in them, b-but I know there are some sort of _instructions_ . . ."

Hermione couldn't believe her ears. Voldemort left instructions? Instructions for what? The world seemed to be spinning slower and faster at the same time. Her head began to ache a bit and she took a seat on Draco's couch. She placed Teddy beside her and handed him his toy snitch to keep him occupied.

Draco watched her for a moment, knowing it was all starting to get to her head. He turned back to the Death Eater who looked ashamed of his own existence. "What kind of instructions?" He tried, realizing he wouldn't be able to get all the information he needed from just one person.

"I . . . I can't be sure." The man shook his head, blinking slowly.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Draco questioned suddenly. "The one that attacked me last night . . ."

A sigh escaped between the weak man's lips, "Yes. I am afraid so."

"Tell me who the Chosen One is and we'll let you live."

Hermione looked up from Teddy, "Malfoy . . ."

"T-there are more letters—letters he hasn't found yet." Came the Death Eaters pleading voice, "I don't know where they all are, but h-he's looking! He's looking now! The Dark Lord hid them, very well I presume. I can tell you where he's heading next—the Malfoy Manor. Just p-please . . . do not make me say his name . . ."

Draco grabbed the man's wand and stood, taking a few steps back. "What happens if I make you say his name? I could put you under the _Imperio_ curse and that could be that."

"I'll be given a slow and painful death. I know I asked you to kill me, but a slow death is what I fear the most. Anything is better than dying the way the Chosen One wants." Said the man, briefly.

"How do I know you're not lying?" Questioned Draco.

Draco met eyes with the man, sitting sluggishly on his floor. He moved his lips silently at first then began to speak, "Th—" He was able to pronounce the beginning of the name before the sleeve over his left arm began to wither away as if it were being burned. The man winced, but let it continue until it reached his shoulder where it stopped. It hadn't reached the skin on his arm yet, but if he were to continue speaking, the curse would destroy him all together. Slowly and painfully.

Hermione's eyes were wide. "Who would do something like _that_? All for a name!"

"Someone that wants to be sure no one _knows_ his name." Draco suggested, running a hand through his already disarrayed hair. Before than man could speak any longer Draco lifted his wand, "_Obliviate_." He paused and waited a moment. "You live on the far side of town. Your job called you in for a meeting not too long ago. I'd suggest you get there before you're fired." The man, now oblivious to his true identity, stood up quickly and rushed out of the room.

Draco looked around his flat. It was a bit of a disaster with the shattered objects due to Death Eaters and the torn papers due to Teddy. He sighed and snapped the Death Eater's wand between his hands. He did the same to the other wand and tossed them in the rubbish bin. Without another word, he made his way into the kitchen and began preparing himself a drink.

"What now?" Hermione asked, watching his actions while Teddy zoomed around the flat with the snitch in his hand.

"I don't know." He responded bluntly.

"So that's it then?" She fired back, finding his words unbelievable. "A man has his hands on letters from none other than Voldemort himself—filled with information we could only imagine—and is plotting to do who knows what who knows _where_ and all you can say is 'I don't know'?" Hermione stood and began pacing, biting her lip as she did so.

Draco watched quietly, drinking small portions of his fire whiskey. He noticed her hands fidgeting uncontrollably. They went from her hips, to crossing her arms, then one went to her lip, then the other went to her temple, then the other went into her hair and then they both landing back on her hips once again.

"Do you want a drink?" He asked, his voice lacking enthusiasm. "You look a little distressed."

Hermione looked over at him sharply, "No, I do not want a _drink_, Malfoy! I want answers." He just shrugged and she took a few steps closer. "Why are you _really_ here? In the Muggle World, I mean."

Draco took a long sip of the liquid and found himself a nice position on the couch. Hermione waited patiently and he sighed, "I was beginning to be attacked, back at the Manor. They weren't frequent—at first—but then about a month before I left they started happening every night. They became more dangerous and before I knew it, I was shouting out Unforgivable Curses every other word. The bloody attacks never stopped regardless."

"So you moved here . . ." Hermione was sitting on the opposite couch now, listening intently.

"I moved here." He nodded. "Been here ever since. Then a few weeks ago, it happened again. Along with the nightmares. I didn't think much of it. They were only break-ins. I was never physically attacked or harmed in any way. The nightmares, on the other hand, started to go away after a while. Mother would send me sleeping potions from time to time, when they became really bad."

Hermione tucked some hair behind her ear, analyzing things in her mind silently. "What changed?"

Draco finished off his drink. "I'm not sure." He answered truthfully. "I came home that day after I saw you in the shop . . . then that night it happened again. The nightmares. They were horrible, really. After I woke up, I was attacked. I set up wards and I haven't gotten any sleep since then."

"When you were looking out the window, you saw them, didn't you? The Death Eaters." She asked and he nodded. "Why didn't you put the wards back up?"

"They would have felt it." Draco answered, getting up and putting his glass in the sink. "It would have had to be a strong one, and them being that close—they would have felt it. They would have known we were here." He paused. "It didn't really matter. They got to us anyway."

"You protected us." Hermione let herself smile despite the hard expression on Draco's face.

"I guess you could say that." He said in a mumbled tone.

Teddy came running out of Draco's room wearing a pair of his dark green boxers. To him, they were practically pants and dragged slightly on the floor as he ran towards Hermione. "Snitch! Snitch!" He said, handing her the toy snitch.

Hermione opened her palm and cast the levitating spell on the toy. It began floating around the room. The boy lit up with excitement and went to chase after the snitch. Hermione giggled when he ran into Draco's leg. "Grab the snitch for him." She told him sweetly, watching his face flush a little more.

Awkwardly, Draco took the snitch out of the air and handed it to Teddy. He was rewarded with a squeal, "Dway-co!" Teddy jumped and down in the dark green boxers, oblivious as to how silly he looked. He wrapped his arms and legs around one of Draco's legs tightly.

"_Granger_." Draco wiggled his leg a bit, hoping the kid would let go, but nothing happened. "He smells—get him off my leg."

Hermione took a few steps towards Teddy and got a heavy dose of the smelly aroma. She tied her hair up and tugged Teddy off Draco's leg. It wasn't easy, but he eventually let go, almost causing Draco to fall backwards. "Mind if I use your room really fast?" She asked.

Draco lifted a brow, "I—"

"Thanks!" She grabbed her small handbag from the couch and rushed Teddy in Draco's bedroom.

When Hermione came out of the room minutes later, she had a small bundle of something. "I left your boxers on the bed," She informed. Draco glanced down at Teddy who didn't look too pleased.

Hermione dropped the bundle in the rubbish bin and Draco gripped his nose shut. "That's disgusting!" He exclaimed, taking a step back.

"It's a dirty diaper, Malfoy." She rolled her eyes, "Where else am I supposed to put it?"

Draco pointed his wand at the horrifying thing sitting in his rubbish bin, "_Bombarda_." He said and the diaper burst into a small explosion. Teddy's lips formed into a small 'o' as he looked up at Draco. "There," He set his wand down, the diaper gone. "Better."

Hermione shook her head and washed her hands. "You're impossible. Kids make accidents all the time. It's not like he isn't almost fully toliet-trained and I'm sure you made _plenty_ accidents back in your day too." She said, taking her handbag and Teddy in her arms. "We best be getting back . . ."

"Don't let me stop you." He told her with a bland, mocking smile.

"I'll be back later," She smirked. Her face then fell serious, "Try not to get killed while I'm gone, yeah?"

Draco just chuckled, "Don't flatter yourself too much, Granger."

A few hours after Hermione Apparated back to her flat with Teddy, Harry arrived.

"'Mione?" Harry called and Hermione came out of her bathroom looking a bit of a disaster. Her hair was pinned back in different directions while her robe was stained in different colors, Harry guessed were makeup. Leave it to Hermione to experiment with her makeup manually before magically. "Merlin, Hermione!" He said, "What happened to you?"

"Harry Potter!" She placed her hands on her hips defensively, "It's called getting ready for a dinner with the Weasleys! I would appreciate it if you didn't insult the progress I've made."

Harry laughed and avoided her attempt at slapping his arm. "I'm sorry," He said, "I just haven't seen you go all out about a gathering in a while. Especially one with just the Weasleys."

Hermione sighed and played with the ties of her robe, "I haven't seen Ron since the summer. I just thought I'd—"

"Dress up so he would think you're exceptionally happy with the life you have now?" Harry finished, lifted his brows innocently.

Taking a seat at the small round table in her kitchen, she asked, "Is it that obvious?"

Harry shrugged a shoulder, "'Mione," He walked over and took a clip out of her hair that held back a large chunk of her curls. They fell to the side of her face and she took out the rest. "You look _great_." He said. Her eyes softened and he knew he got somewhere. "Now, where's my godson? Ginny's going to be wondering where I am and Bill is already there with Fleur and Victoire."

Hermione stood, "He's napping on my bed." She smiled and led him to her bedroom where Teddy lied in the center of her queen sized bed. Upon seeing white fuzzy slippers on Teddy's feet, Harry turned to Hermione with a brow raised. She shrugged a shoulder, "He likes them."

Harry let it go with a smirk and gently picked Teddy up from the bed. "Thanks for watching him, again, 'Mione." He said and hugged her with one arm.

"Anytime," She said and kissed Teddy's forehead.

The two stood in Hermione's Floo. "See you tonight." Harry told her and vanished.

* * *

><p>AN: **So i hoped you like the chapter(: Teddy is just a load of toddler-craziness. **

**If i can get at least 5 reviews, I'll upload the next two! Reviews tend to make a person's day. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 5

"Hermione!" Neville Longbottom stood in the Burrow living room, towering over Hermione as she exited out of the Floo. "It's nice seeing you again! How long has it been?"

Hermione smiled and welcomed the old friend into open arms. "Just about six months." She answered with a laugh. They hugged and took a step back.

Neville chuckled, "When do you not have the answers?" He joked, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"You'd be surprised," She replied, tucking some hair behind her ear. Neville didn't look much different—still tall and handsome with dark hair and a loving smile. That was one thing she loved about the gentle guy. He was same old Neville all year 'round no matter how much his physical appearance might change. "So, what brings you here?" She asked.

Neville scratched the back of his neck, "Oh, Luna and I are—"

"Neville?" Luna appeared around the corner. "Oh, there you are Neville! I was beginning to get nervous. It's nargle mating season, you know." She said dreamily and locked eyes with Hermione. "Hello, Hermione, again!" She said with a smile.

"Hello, Luna," Hermione returned the smile and then looked up at Neville who looked a bit nervous. "What was it you were saying again, Neville?"

"Oh, just that . . . err . . . Luna had asked me to meet her here before we . . ." He struggled, avoiding Luna and Hermione's faces.

Luna turned to Hermione, "We're going out to visit Neville's grandmother together." She said simply then added, "It's our first date, you know."

Hermione wanted to gush how cute it was, but she restrained herself from doing so after seeing the blush across Neville's cheeks. "Well don't let me stop you!"

"Oh," Luna looked around the room, "I need to go find my bag!"

With that she rushed off quickly and Hermione looked at a bashful Neville. "So, what happened to Hannah?" She asked quietly, too curious for her own good.

Neville shrugged a shoulder and looked down at his shoes. "Things weren't where they should have been, I guess."

"How did you know?" Hermione tilted her head to the side a bit, keeping her eyes on the tall wizard as he spoke.

"It just sort of hits you." He replied, looking up now. "Hannah and I had our differences. When I met up with Luna a few weeks after, I figured I'd give it a try, like back in school." He smiled at the thought. "You know, it's funny, really. Sometimes we go for so long in the wrong place or with the wrong person—but it manages to work its self out exactly where you should be anyway."

Hermione clutched the hem of her nice shirt a little tighter. "Yeah, I guess so . . ."

Luna returned with her multicolored bag. "Found it,"

Smiling, Neville offered out his hand to the starry eyed blonde and she took it willingly. "Have a nice dinner, Hermione." He said and walked into the Floo with Luna's fingers intertwined with his own.

"Bye, guys," She smiled and they returned it once more before disappearing. Neville's words were causing Hermione's brain to over think things. She suddenly wanted to go back to her flat, sit on her couch, and think.

Fingers suddenly tickled Hermione's sides and she yelped, taking a step away quickly.

George laughed, "Scared you, didn't I? He teased with a smirk across his face.

"George Weasley!" Hermione folded her arms across her chest, giving a glare at her boss. He always got her. Even when at work—back at the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes where she began working back in September when she quit her job at the Ministry—he got her, and several times in front of costumers.

He nudged her side playfully, "And Hermione Granger! You make this game too easy. Give me another one!"

Hermione failed at fighting back a laugh. "What's my middle name then?" She quizzed, sliding off her handbag and setting it on the couch.

George's face fell a bit. "Uhm . . ." He began thinking hard when Angelina walked in.

"Love," She laughed lightly at his conflicted expression. "Dinner's just about ready. Come over to the table. You too, Hermione! We've been waiting for you." She smiled.

The kitchen was as it usually was. Chaotic.

Hermione saw just about everyone, except Percy and his family. They weren't coming in until the wedding, but even without them—the space was limited beyond means. Bill was sitting chatting with Arthur while Ginny and Fleur helped Molly set the table. Ron was conversing with the infamous Charlie Weasley and Harry wasn't in sight.

Walking in at George's side, Bill looked up with a grin. "Hermione, nice to see you again!" He greeted, standing at her arrival.

Charlie and Ron looked up at the three and stood as well.

"'Mione!" Ron's face lit up brightly and he walked around the table to embrace her.

Hermione felt awkward in his arms, but decided on hugging him back regardless. He was still one of her best friends. She tried not to remember all the kisses and looks they had shared back then. That was over and they were happy now. "Hello, Ron." She said against the fabric of his shirt.

"Blimey, Hermione!" Ron took a step back to get a good look at her. "Harry told me you were doing well—but you look great!" He complimented while they took their seats at the end of the table.

"Thanks," She smiled, hiding the confidence in it.

"Charlie," Charlie held out his hand across the table with a toothy smile and Hermione took it politely.

"Hermione Granger."

Charlie chuckled, "Oh, I know who you are! No one ever stops talking about you over here. You'll have to show me why they all seem to love you so much sometime."

Color rose a bit on Hermione's cheeks. "You're not completely in the shadows, either." She told him. Charlie wasn't exactly the most charming Weasley, but he was fairly attractive—quite muscular with lighter freckles than the rest of his siblings, but it'd been a while since she had received a compliment from someone other than her close friends. She figured she'd been out of practice with keeping her flattery scale at bay, because she was sure if Charlie were to stand, he wouldn't be much taller than Ron. He defiantly wasn't a Viktor Krum, but he wasn't a Cormac McLaggen either. Thank Merlin for that.

"Have you always been this feisty?" He joked with a smirk, catching her eyes with his own.

"Try since birth." Ron butted in, taking a drink out of his glass.

Hermione and Charlie looked over at the youngest Weasley boy and then shared a laugh.

Harry came down the stairs then, scrubbing at something on his button up shirt. The smudge was purple and bright. He looked a bit annoyed, scrubbing harder and harder with every step towards the table. He noticed Hermione and smiled, "Hermione, you showed! Brilliant!" He said while he sat in the chair next to her.

Upon seeing the dark haired man, Hermione remembered everything the Death Eater had said. The Chosen One. It couldn't have been Harry. She also didn't want to inform Harry. Not now, anyways. Not with the wedding only days away. He had work to worry about while raising Teddy and help plan a wedding. She could only imagine what it'd do to him if he found out a man had letters from Voldemort with 'instructions' in them. Hermione was sure she'd see gray hairs beginning to sprout on Harry's head.

If she were to look around, she'd see a big happy family. One that believes the war is over—and it should be. Yet, if the letters don't get destroyed and the man isn't stopped, everyone would have the right to question if the war is anywhere _near_ over.

Hermione let out an awkward laugh, "Of course I came—"

"Why wouldn't she?" Ron lifted a brow, smiling obliviously.

Harry glanced at Hermione and restrained from giving Ron a look. "No reason." He smoothed out his shirt and pants, "So, I was getting Teddy dressed for the dinner earlier, and he mentioned something quite odd."

Ron chuckled, "Oh? What's that little bugger up to now?"

"I was looking for some of his trousers and he told me he wanted green ones like 'Dway-co'." Harry laughed at his own words. "It was very funny, actually. He was running around the room shouting the name. Then after I put him in a clean diaper just in case of accidents, he told me to 'blow it ups dirty one like Dway-co dids'!"

Hermione shifted a little in her chair and Ron joined in on the laughter. "Who the bloody hell is that?" He asked, scratching at the scruff on his cheek.

Harry shrugged a shoulder, "I don't really know—"

"So, Harry," Hermione spoke in. "What's that smudge on your shirt?"

"Oh," He looked down at it briefly before shooting a glare in George's direction. "Someone decided to give the kids some purple slippery globbs—used for rubbing on the floor to make someone slip—and as normal cases go, Teddy and Victoire didn't know that . . . so they threw them at me. I managed to dodge one, but Teddy has a good arm . . ."

Ron laughed, "That kid's really something, isn't he?"

George over heard the conversation and looked over, a smug grin on his face. Hermione noticed and glanced over with a smile. He winked before returning to his own conversation.

Dinner felt like it lasted for days. When everything was ravished and gone, Mrs. Weasley pulled out some sweet looking deserts and placed them on the table. Ron gladly took a portion, as did Bill, Fleur, Angelina, and the kids.

Hermione sat and talked with Ginny and Ron before she spotted something strange on the back page of Mr. Weasley's Daily Prophet. Her jaw dropped a bit.

Narcissa Malfoy: Dead.

"'Mione?" Ginny waved a hand in front of Hermione's face. "'Mione, are you feeling alright?"

"What? Oh," Hermione looked away from the moving portrait of the pail woman and waved off her weird behavior. "I'm alright, just thinking." Ginny exchanged in a look with Ron before they let it go and continued talking.

An hour later, George and Angelina waved goodbye and left. They had been the last of the guests, besides Ron, and the Burrow had become a lot quieter. Hermione and Ginny offered to help clean up the kitchen, but Molly shooed them off and had the magic do it all.

Ron stood from the couch where he sat with Hermione, Harry and Ginny after a few good long conversations. "Well, I hate to leave, but I have to get going." He said, stretching his arms up above his head while he yawned. "Thanks for dinner, Mum." He smiled and she showered his cheeks with kisses.

"Now, you come and visit more often!" Molly swatted his arm lightly. "We don't see you enough anymore."

Ron nodded, "I'll be back before the wedding. Promise." He said his goodbyes to the rest of his family and Teddy. "See you soon, mate." He told Harry, hugging him before looking at Hermione. "Bye, Hermione." He said quietly, not expecting a hug. She gave one anyway.

"Bye, Ron." Hermione said and smiled when she felt him hug her back.

Harry watched in silence as his best friends hugged for more than a few seconds. He let himself smile too and watched Ron take off to wherever he had to be. Hermione sat back down and took the Daily Prophet Arthur had been reading at the table. She began reading and Ginny spoke up, "I haven't heard much from Teddy in a while. I'm going to go check on him." She said and made her way up the stairs.

Harry waited a moment before saying something. "You know," He cleared his throat. "I know who Teddy was talking about."

Hermione's eyes shot towards Harry. "Oh really? Who?" She played dumb, growing a bit nervous.

"Well," Harry pretended to think about it. He pursed his lips and looked forward. "There's Draco Malfoy." He said bluntly.

"Malfoy? Harry, that's just silly." Hermione tried, shaking her head.

"Hermione." Harry held her eyes with his own. "There aren't many people I know whose name sounds like 'Dway-co'." There was silence and he chuckled, "I don't mind, really. Teddy was in need of new stories. I just didn't think you'd pick Malfoy, out of all people, to be the topic."

Hermione watched him stand, "Oh! Yeah, well, I just thought I'd make the story humorous." She put on a smile and played along.

Harry laughed, "You'll have to share that story with me one of these days."

"Of course," Hermione chuckled. She waited for Harry to disappear up the stairs to see if Ginny and Teddy were alright before she grabbed her bag, thanked Author and Molly for the lovely dinner, and then Apparated.

* * *

><p>Draco was lying on his bed, wearing a pair of pajama pants and a white shirt, deep in thought when he heard a knock on his door. He took his wand back in his hand and made his way towards the front door cautiously. There was another knock and he hesitated.<p>

"Malfoy, open up, it's me!"

Keeping his wand ready, he asked, "How do I know it's you?"

"I called you a filthy little cockroach back in Third Year. I also might have hit or slapped you—I don't remember." She admitted, muffled by the door.

Draco rolled his eyes and opened the door. "It _felt_ like both." He grumbled.

Within seconds Draco felt the pressure of another body pinned against his. "I'm so sorry!" Hermione apologized, standing on her tiptoes to link her arms around his neck.

"It's a little late for apologies, don't you think, Granger?" He murmured, still confused from the sudden burst of affection.

Hermione released and shook her head, "No! Not about that." She walked in and closed the door behind her. "About your . . . mother." She licked her lips and began walking towards the couch.

Draco followed, "My mother?" He questioned with a brow raised, "What about my mother? And how did you find out what my address was?"

"Oh, I used a tracking spell that works by smell. I cast it over the sweater Teddy was wearing and it picked up your scent and brought me here." She went on, "I saw an article and . . . well I didn't know if you knew . . ." She took a seat and avoided his silvery stare. "Well, it said she had . . . died . . ."

The flat was quiet and Draco ran a hand through his hair. "Granger." He said and she looked at him, her eyes soft. "My mother's fine. She isn't dead. Do you always believe what you read in the papers?"

Hermione suddenly became embarrassed she had ever said or thought anything. "You mean she's—"

"Alive and well? Yes." Draco nodded, "We had a little help arranging a fake murder in Diagon Alley so the reporters would leave her alone. They've been horrible lately since my father was convicted for a life sentence in Azkaban."

"But what about the attacks? Don't you think they'll happen more often now that everyone seems to believe she's dead?" Hermione asked.

"There are wards." He replied simply. "Strong ones. Mother paid off some Aurors to do the job and keep quiet." Draco stood and walked into his kitchen, opening the cold machine he'd grown to love known as a refrigerator. He pulled out a half eaten sandwich he didn't finish for lunch and began to munch.

Hermione watched him search for a satisfying drink and spoke up, "Malfoy. I was thinking . . ."

"Oh, here it goes." He commented with a full mouth.

"I was thinking and I wanted to ask if you had a plan to get the letters. You know, the ones Voldemort wrote." She finished, noting how utterly shy she had sounded. It was only Malfoy—standing in blue plaid pajama pants and a semi fit white shirt.

"Now that you mention it, I do." He answered after a moment of eating. "I'm going to go out and start looking. I reckon it can't be too hard. If their anything like the horcruxes—they'll be in places only the Dark Lord would think to place them. It'll probably take a while so I started mapping out some places earlier when you left."

Hermione's brows shot up, "You aren't really going to try and do this on your own, are you?" Draco took a bite of his sandwich and looked at her blankly. "You daft ferret!" She exclaimed.

Draco coughed, "Excuse me?"

"What is it with men and having to do things on their own?" She stood and folded her arms across her chest. "Malfoy, you are _not_ going to do this all by yourself! It's way too dangerous!" He didn't even try to get a word in before she continued. "I was there when the discovery was made, so I believe it'd only be right if I helped."

"First of all," Draco stepped out from his kitchen and put himself in front the fiery tempered woman. "You can't tell me what to do. Second, I never said I _needed _help."

Hermione's eye brows furrowed in anger, "Are you mad? You're going to need my help!"

Draco glared, "I'll take that as an insult. Has it ever occurred to you not _everyone_ is in need of your abnormal brain, Granger? I did perfectly well in school without coping your Potions assignments every other day."

At this, the witch's hands fell to her sides and coiled into fists. "I didn't mean just my brains, Malfoy! I was talking about everything! You're going to need backup, unless you've decided to inform a whole army—which I'd have to say would be a _very_ bad idea."

"I wouldn't inform a whole army, you irritating woman, that would only make things obvious." He said, lip curled in annoyance. "If we do start working together—we'll kill each other before the job's done."

"You'll get yourself killed on your own if you don't let me help." She sneered back.

Draco shrugged a shoulder, "I'm not exactly living for a cause. It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"I'm helping and that's final." Hermione declared, keeping her eyes locked with his. "There's a chance we could be facing another war in the future. I'm not just going to stand by and let the fate of the world rest in _your_ hands."

The platinum blonde laughed coldly, "That sounds more like you, Granger. I was beginning to think you were worried I'd get hurt."

Hermione felt the heat rise from the tip of her toes. "I'm sorry to shatter your ego, Malfoy."

"Wait a minute," Draco paused and turned to look at his door. "Why did you use the front door?" He asked randomly.

"I couldn't get through the wards. So I used the front door."

Draco glanced at her then back at the door, "Do you realize what you're saying?" He looked fully at her now. "Wards block everything—even things at the front door."

Hermione put on her thinking face, "Maybe someone charmed it before hand so it couldn't be protected . . ."

Before Draco spoke another word, the door creaked open and the two froze in place. A letter came through the door in midair. It floated until it reached Hermione and she swallowed. She looked over at Draco who looked highly suspicious.

When she dared to reach for it, Draco gripped her hand down. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the mysterious object. "_Revelio_." He whispered and bright green lines appeared all over the letter. Abruptly, the letter let out a sharp cry that made Hermione gasp and step back along side Draco. It began to whither apart and grow slightly as if it were going to explode. Within seconds, there was a poof and the letter vanished into thin air.

"It was poisoned." Draco said, staring at the air where the letter had been.

"What if that was one of the letters from Voldemort?" She said breathlessly, feeling stupid she let Malfoy act the smarter of the two.

"I don't think it would have intentionally floated towards us if that were the case." Draco said dryly. "Someone wanted to poison me—kill me, nonetheless."

Hermione looked up at him, "You think it was him? The Chosen One? I mean, I know a lot of people hate you, but I don't know a lot that'd try to poison you or kill you."

Draco ran a hand through his hair, "That's why I'm going to the Malfoy Manor to look through my father's old stuff. I think he might have something."

"Are you sure you should sleep here tonight?" Hermione blurted. "It doesn't seem safe . . ."

"Worried about me again, Granger?" He teased flatly.

Hermione avoided his eyes, "Don't be ridiculous. If you're dead there's a possibility that finding these bloody letters will be more of a hassle. You're father was a Death Eater, after all. You're like an inside source."

Draco rolled his eyes and started off to his bedroom. "I'll re-cast the wards once you're gone." He looked back with a grin, "Don't let the door hit you on the way out, Granger."


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: **well, i didn't get as many reviews as i'd like, BUT they ones who did review made my day! thank you so much guys! 3 and i did get many alerts and faves, so that made me go ahead and upload this chapter and the one before. :) **

**so i'm not an expert on the rules of spells or anything. when I see people use an _Obliviate_, I personally think that's a really strong spell. so in this chapter Hermione doesn't use an _Obliviate_, but a weaker version of it. I'm not sure if in the Wizarding World people can acutally predict how powerful they want it to be, but it's just a little heads up.**

**here's a link to a sketch I did on chapter 4 (i think it was) and if it doesn't work, my DeviantART user name is xzutarax. **

**.com/?order=15&q=hermione draco and teddy#/d4krcmj **

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><p>For the next four days Hermione fell into a dull routine.<p>

She'd wake up, go to work for a few hours (over stressed by the number of kids that came in, whiney and snotty), take a quick lunch break, get back to work until the evening (with the same kind of costumers she hated so much), help Ginny on whatever plans she needed, eat herself a quick dinner and then more than likely fall asleep on the table or couch on the way to her room.

It became exhausting and Draco was on her mind the majority of the time.

Finally, Friday arrived and Hermione walked in the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes with a smile on her face. George greeted her with several different boxes in his arms. "Morning, 'Mione!"

"Good morning, George." Hermione replied and accompanied him in walking to the back storage room to put away her bag and jacket. She had offered to help with the load, but he refused. "What are all the boxes for?" She asked, tying up her hair while he set down the boxes.

"Oh, these? They're gifts for the newlyweds!" George had a goofy smile on his face and led them out of the storage room.

"Gifts?" Hermione's jaw dropped. "Those boxes were huge! Are they all from one person?"

George laughed, "Only joking." He waved it off casually and began straightening things up on the shelves. Hermione mentally slapped herself for falling for something that easy. "They're pieces to the new stands I ordered for the new merchandise coming in next month."

"The stuff that . . ."

The redhead nodded in clarification, "The stuff that Fred wanted to order way back when."

He didn't have too much emotion on the subject and Hermione took that as her cue to bring up a different topic. "We aren't working the weekend, are we?" She asked.

"You're bloody hell right we aren't working!" George grimaced at the thought. "We worked the weekend before last." He talked as he poofed here and there around the store, tidying things up for the day. "I keep getting complaints from some of our frequent costumers' mothers." He leaned on the stair railing with both hands, "You don't think I'm a 'bad influence on society', do you?" He asked sincerely, a half conflicted expression on his face.

Hermione looked up at him with smirk, "What would your mum say?"

George's face fell, "Oh, Merlin's balls, you're right!" He touched his cheek, hinting on sarcasm. "How am I ever going to live with myself?" He attempted a fake faint, but poofed to the bottom floor before he fell all the way over. He stood next to Hermione now, helping organize some smaller boxes.

"I'm sure you'll find a way." Hermione laughed.

By noon the store was packed and Hermione was glad her hair was pulled back because she'd be pulling it out soon enough. Kids were screaming and fighting over the smallest things. She had to use her own magic to separate two boys settling their dilemma with their fists.

There were teenage girls looking over the love potions and Hermione couldn't help let out a small laugh when she walked away. She remembered when she was their age and hearts were fragile. Love potions—she had learned—were never the answer.

When the quieter parts of the day came through, she was able to relax and share her knowledge of each product with the children that actually cared. Hermione loved it, most of the time. It was great to see their small faced enlighten when she showed them what something could do with a little bit of magic.

"Don't worry about it, 'Mione." George said when it was time to close for the night. "I'll close up tonight. You did it last night."

Hermione smiled, "Thanks," She said and finished picking up all the fallen merchandise. She made her way to the storage room to get her bag and jacket when she heard a crash from outside. "George? George!" Rushing out with her wand in hand, she had to instantly deflect a curse that was fired her way.

"Hermione, look out!" George took her hand and pulled her towards him and away from the Death Eater that was pointing his wand dangerously close to the young witch. "_Conjunctivitis_!" The Weasley shouted and the dark clothed wizard fell the ground, covering his eyes in pain.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Hermione called at the second Death Eater.

"_Evanesco_!" George said after, pointing his wand at the Death Eater's own wand. The wand dissolved away into nothing and the Death Eater retreated, disappearing back out into the dark night sky.

George was suddenly knocked down by a spell and hit the ground with a loud _thump_. His wand rolled across the floor and Hermione quickly looked back at the Death Eater beginning to rise. He was too quick and casted her back against the shelves on the opposite wall.

George watched her hit the ground in pain and armed himself with his wand once again. "_Incarcerous_!" He casted and the enemy fell back to the ground, bound without his wand anywhere near. "Bloody idiot." George spat on his face before putting himself at Hermione's side, helping her up gently.

"Th-thank you, George." She said quietly, hissing at the pain in her neck and back.

George nodded and dissolved the Death Eater's wand away as well. The man shouted awful things before Apparating away with a devilish look on his face.

"Well . . ." George rubbed the back of his head, "That was eventful."

Hermione looked up at her boss. "I heard a crash and came out. What happened?"

"I was just sweeping when I heard the front window shatter and all I could see were these big black blobs. Next thing I knew, I was being blasted at with curses of all sorts." He finished, "Hermione, were those really what I think they were?" He asked, staring at the broken window.

"George," Hermione still felt her heart pumping under her ribs quickly. She shook her head and looked back down at the window, standing next to her friend. "We have to keep quiet about this."

George looked down at her, astonished. "Hermione! Are you sick or something? We just got attacked by Death Eaters! There's no way we can't _not_ tell anyone about this!"

Hermione sighed, "You could, but I can't let you do that just yet, George." She said quietly and he looked at her with a confused expression before she pointed her wand at him. She then casted a spell to erase his memories from the last two hours—one not as strong as an _Obliviate, _but still highly effective.

There was silence and George took a deep breath. He looked over at the window and gasped, "What happened to my window?" He exclaimed, walking over with his mouth wide open.

"Some kids earlier today . . . they were being uncontrollable and . . ." Hermione fought back her tears as much has she could. It was hard enough casting a spell like that on her parents, but now she just erased the mind of a friend—she could even say close friend—and the feeling got to her. "I'm sorry, I have to get going now." She picked up her bag from the floor and rushed out, leaving George watching her until she was no longer in sight.

* * *

><p>The tent was dimly lighted. Everyone was quiet and held back any opinions due to their fear of the punishment. They sat around the tent; most were staring at the ground. When the sound of someone entering came upon them, each one looked up with blank faces.<p>

"It's about time."

Scabior rolled his eyes, followed by a quiet Fenrir Greyback, and sat in the chair across from the man with dark hair. "What is it you want?" He asked flatly, ignoring the stairs from the Death Eaters around him.

"There's a woman." The man started, his voice low. "She seems to be helping our little Malfoy try and find my letters. They've taken out two of my Death Eaters. Find her. Bring her to me."

"What's in it for me? She's just a woman. How much damage could she do?" Scabior lifted a brow, locking eyes with the man.

"I didn't break you and the rest of your idiotic crew out of Azkaban for nothing, Snatcher." The man growled. "Hermione Granger is more than capable of doing _plenty_ damage to this mission."

Scabior fell silent for a moment. The memory fell flat and he remembered the day when the Aurors went searching for any living former Voldemort followers after the war. He was wounded and slow—then caught and thrown in Azkaban till the day he would die. Just recently, a stupid looking bloke walked into Azkaban with a look on his face as if he owned the entire world. Not that Scabior cared at all. However, it wasn't until the man explained the situation that Scabior thought about it. He would be out of Azkaban and that was good enough for him. "Hermione Granger—as in the girl that was traveling with Harry Potter?" He questioned, highly intrigued.

The Chosen One nodded and sat back in his chair. "Find her and you'll get as many galleons as you want."

There was a chuckle from the crazy haired Snatcher, "You expect me to believe that?"

"No." The dark haired man grinned, "But I can offer you the Unbreakable Vow. You get me the girl and I get you all the galleons you need."

Scabior took this into consideration, his scuffed boot hoisted up on the edge of the narrow table comfortably. He bit his thumb nail and attempted to think things over without the sound of Greyback's heavy breathing behind him interfere. He then spoke, "Tempting—but I think I'll just go ahead and keep my sanity."

"Suit yourself." The Chosen One just shrugged a shoulder. "Oh, but I do have someone to help you with this request."

Scabior shook his head and stood, "I don't need anyone else. Anton Dolohov is waiting outside right now. Three is plenty enough—"

"I insist." Silence fell over the group of men and a young looking man walked in behind the Chosen One. Scabior eyed him down icily. He had no time for some kid to hold them back. Hearing Greyback's low snarl, Scabior knew he agreed too. "This is McLaggen. He'll be joining you."

* * *

><p>Hermione reached Draco's flat and knocked quickly on his door. She could feel the wards had gone weak and it didn't seem right. When there was no answer, she knocked again. Her heart sped up a little and she tried not to think of the negative side.<p>

The door finally opened and Draco stood there, looking dreadfully pail. His hair was a disaster and there were dark circles under his blood shot eyes while cracks covered his dry lips. He had a blanket tossed over his shoulders while he wore his pajamas.

"Malfoy . . .?" Hermione tried to look him in the eyes, but they were unsteady and in a glazy stare. He was looking at her, but she could tell he wasn't exactly _seeing_ her.

Draco parted his lips to speak and then he fell to the ground.

"Draco!"

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><p>AN: **okay, so Scabior has been thrown into the picture. if anybody saw the movie, you surely saw him fall off the bridge and plumet to dear death. heh. well, lets just pretend he either fell in some water and cheated death just barely OR in the brink of time casted a levitation charm on himself. either way-he isn't dead, people. **

**as for Fenrir Greyback . . . well as vicious and cruel the werewolf is-its just strange having a group of Snatchers without the fuzzy guy! come on, you know it's true. ;P lol. so lets pretend with Ron and Neville took him 'down', he was confined and then taken off to Azkaban. :D **

**Anton Dolohov is a character I know little about. he was broken out of Azkaban and is with the Snatchers once again. that's about all there is to him. i'm sorry if it turns out he's really supposed to be dead or something. it's a fanfic, s o o o o o once again, lets play pretend! **

**now, in case you guys are wondering why I decided to put Cormac McLaggen along side a group of Snatcher is a complete mystery to me! i never liked the guy, so now he's on the dark side :) end of story.**

**thanks for reading! if you're up for reviewing, PLEASE do.**


	8. Chapter 7

"_Mobilicorpu_s," Hermione said and watched Draco's limp body drift in the air over to his bed. She shut the door and walked over to his side. His breathing was slow and weak. Softly, she moved the hair away from his forehead and felt his temperature. He was burning and she could instantly tell this had to have been another attempt to kill Draco Malfoy.

* * *

><p>In the morning, Hermione woke from Draco's couch. She had decided on spending the night, avoiding the fact it was completely crazy. The couch wasn't completely uncomfortable either. Like any Malfoy, he had to have everything <em>completely<em> worth the pay.

That night she had taken the time to study the look of his flat. Dark and gloomy was all she could really take in. Black curtains and a dark wooden table set, as was everything else made out of wood. He didn't have any pictures around except for one of his mother in his bedroom she had noticed. Of course, Narcissa wasn't smiling—but Hermione guessed it was the thought that counted.

Neck and back being extremely sore, she cast a painkilling charm before walking over to Draco's bedroom door. Opening it cautiously, she found Draco lying still with an arm over his eyes. "Malfoy?" He didn't answer and she walked over to his bedside. Looking down at him, she noticed his lips moving, mumbling something. "What?" She asked and a grin grew across his pail face.

"You . . ." He paused and breathed a little more, regaining his strength to talk. "You called me 'Draco'."

Hermione was dumbstruck at tone of amusement in his hoarse voice. Out of everything this man could possibly say or remember —he brings up the fact she used his first name. Shaking her head, Hermione laughed and rolled her eyes. "Just be thankful you didn't die."

"You mean to tell me . . ." He removed his forearm from over his eyes. "I'm _not_ dead?" Hermione was quiet and he groaned, "Bloody hell. From the pain I feel in my stomach—I should be dead. Put me out of my misery, Granger. I know you want to—just make it fast."

"Malfoy," Hermione sighed, "I'm _not_ going to kill you." She took out her wand from her back pocket. "I'm going to have to find out what's wrong. Hold still."

At the feeling of the tip of her wand touching his stomach, Draco hissed, "That hurts, you know."

"I'm barely touching you!" Hermione defended lightly, lifting the wand a bit so he wouldn't suffer more pain. "Just shut up so I can focus."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Don't ever become a nurse, Granger."

Hermione gave him a mocking smile and went back to what she was doing. A light flashed at the end of her wand and she moved it around Draco's abdomen slowly, allowing it to process. She noticed he took the sheets between his fingers, biting his lip due to the amount of pain. She couldn't tell if it was horrible, but she made note to finish quickly and put him out of his agony.

"As I thought," Hermione said, sliding her wand back in its place. "Your food was poisoned. It isn't going go away on its own. Right now, it's sitting in your stomach, causing you unbearable pain."

Draco looked at her in disbelief, "So what then? You're going to give me some sort of elixir to make me shit?" He questioned irrationally.

Hermione ignored him and said, "I can mix up a dissolving potion in just a few hours. Part of the poison is that it _won't_ come out. You'll have to shower before you drink it, though. Judging by the smell in here—you haven't gotten one if quite a while." Draco rolled his eyes again and she continued, "If you don't, the potion will work its way outside your body and start eating at the bacteria on your skin. Once that happens, it can't be stopped." The way Draco was looking at her made her want to laugh, but she restrained from doing so.

"Granger. I can barely _sit up_. How am I supposed to bathe myself thoroughly?" He remarked.

"I'll put the painkilling charm I just put on myself, on you. That way, you won't feel it." She offered, walking over to his bathroom and starting the shower.

"Those don't work!" He called from the bed. "I've been casting one of those every five minutes since Tuesday." The witch was back in front of him now, drying her hands off with a small towel. "Wait a minute—how did you get in my flat?"

"You let me in last night." Hermione replied shortly, setting down the towel on his bedside table. "Then you collapsed on the floor." She helped him sit up slowly and he winced every other second. Once he was sitting in a slouched manner on the edge of the bed, he lifted his arms above his head and Hermione lifted a brow.

"I'm telling you—charms don't last. Cast one when I'm at the bathroom door, that way I'll have more time before it runs out." He added, "I believe it's the poison that's driving the charms away so quickly. So if you wouldn't mind—I'd like to take a shower."

Hermione looked down at the floor before taking the hem of Draco's shirt. She could tell he was looking at her, but she kept her eyes on her hands. Carefully, she pulled the shirt over his head, revealing the skin of his body she had never thought to see.

"I apologize for scarring your virgin eyes, Granger." He said quietly, giving her a toothy grin.

Avoiding its attractive pull, she saw something then. His Dark Mark. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen it before now. It hadn't been there the other night when they were fighting, but maybe she hadn't been looking hard enough. It brought back memories and she reminded herself not to stare.

Draco hadn't noticed and helped her remove his pajama pants. He watched as the woman was careful with every move she made not to cause him any pain. It felt unnatural to have an enemy of so many years removing his pants and not plan to do him in the end. The thought struck a cord in the pit of a Draco's stomach and he knew it wasn't the poison.

By the time Draco was ready to be assisted in standing up, Hermione's face was flushed and she felt her skin growing warm. Never once in her life had she thought she'd ever have to help undress Draco Malfoy. Now here she was, his arm swung over her shoulders while she helped walk him to the steaming bathroom.

Hermione casted the charm and turned as Draco shut the door behind him. _I'm losing my mind_, she thought and she walked out of his room, beginning her search for potion ingredients.

* * *

><p>Draco finished up his showering quickly once the pain started growing back up. He turned off the water and cursed under his breath with he realized he had no towel in the bathroom. Not to mention his wand was anywhere near by and the remainder of his towels were out in the towel closet outside his bedroom door.<p>

"Granger!"

Hermione's head shot up from her place at the kitchen table. She instantly grew worried something happened to the blonde in the bathroom because of his tone of voice. She stood and rushed over to his bedroom where Draco's head was peaking out of his bathroom door. "Are you alright? What happened?"

"I need a towel." He said casually, loving the way her face gained an irritated expression due to the lack of importance in his request.

Hermione got him a towel and threw it at his face when she returned to the room. "You're welcome." She mumbled coldly. Draco just chuckled and shut the door again.

When he came back out of the bathroom, his soft towel tied firmly around his waste, he walked out into the living room and stretched his arms above his head. Hermione avoided his presence and lack of clothing until he asked, "So, where's this potion of yours? My stomach is starting to catch back on fire."

"Right here," She handed him a small vial. "I had to make a run to Diagon Alley to get some of the proper substances I needed—but I'm sure it'll work."

Draco examined the orange liquid with a questioning look on his face. "You're _absolutely_ sure of it?" He asked sternly. She nodded and he gave her one more look before opening the vial. He licked his lips and swallowed it whole, coughing after he swallowed. "Did you have to make it taste so bloody _awful_?" He accused, handing her back the vial.

Hermione turned back around in her chair and closed the book she had been reading from Draco's library. "Tell me how you got poisoned in the first place."

The Malfoy walked over and sat across from her, raking back his damp hair between his long fingers. "Where do I begin, where do I begin—ah, oh, yes. There was a good looking woman at the restaurant I went to eat at for lunch the day after you left when we had witnessed the poisoned letter. She was about your height and had dark hair. She asked me for my number—which I've been asked a lot since I've lived here—and I told her I didn't have one. I didn't even know what the bloody hell she was talking about anyway." He winced a little at the pain in his stomach, but Hermione told him to give it some time and that it must have been working.

He continued, "So, I sat there reading over my menu when another woman came to my table." He smirked and Hermione rolled her eyes. "I didn't really remember what she looked like at all. I was too busy avoiding anymore attention from the opposite sex. However, she placed a bowl of soup on my table and said it was my appetizer and that she'd be back to take my order in a minute."

"You ate the soup, didn't you?" Hermione asked, smiling.

Draco made a noise from his throat, "Yeah, yeah. I ate the damn soup." He sighed, "Little did I know it'd give me _serious_ stomach issues. I was fine until I left the place. I could barely walk, the pain was unbearable. I didn't even get a chance to head back to the Manor for some searching. The rest of the week I stayed in bed."

"You don't remember what the woman looked like at all?" She analyzed things. The woman had to have been a witch—or maybe a paid off muggle to do the job. It didn't help much that Draco didn't remember what she looked like.

Draco shook his head, "I think she might have had brown hair—but I can't be entirely sure." He stood then, inhaling deeply. "That potion really did the stuff, Granger. I'm feeling better already."

"You're welcome, once again." Hermione said, getting up and walking over to his kitchen where she poured herself a glass of ice water. "There's also something I wanted to tell you."

"Don't worry, I already know." He waved it off.

Hermione set down her glass and looked at him skeptically, "You do?"

"Of course." Draco said casually.

"And what do you know?"

"That you want me." He shrugged a shoulder with a blank expression, scratching his naked tummy. "Is there something else I should know?"

Hermione's lips parted. "That is complete rubbish!" She exclaimed, ignoring the heat crawling up her neck and cheeks. "What I was _going to say_, you cocky arse, is that I just happened to get attacked yesterday at work by two Death Eaters!"

"Did they get away? Were you alone? Was it at night or during the day?" He rushed his questions out, taking a few steps closer to the kitchen from the way to his room. "Why didn't you mention this a little earlier, Granger?"

"Well I'm sorry that I was preoccupied with saving your life than to tell you all about my night at work!" She fired back, folding her arms across her chest.

Draco calmed himself, "Okay. Tell me what happened."

"I was about to leave work when I heard a crash. George and I were the only ones at the store that day. They attacked and I got shot back into a shelf—hence, the reason why I had to use a painkilling charm earlier—but we managed to take them down as much as we could. The first one got away pretty quickly and then the second. George dissolved both their wands during the whole thing." She took a breath and continued, "He asked me if those were what he thought they were and I had to erase him memory. I didn't think it'd be such a good idea for everyone to know just yet. Obviously, whoever is controlling these people is strictly after the letters only. If we find them before he does—we might have a chance to take him down before he starts another war."

Draco began walking to his bedroom. "We'll just have to head to the Manor now before we waste anymore time." Before he closed his door, he instructed, "Go get changed or whatever you need to do. Meet me back here in an hour." Hermione nodded and Apparated to her flat, leaving Draco staring in the empty air where she had once stood. _You better hurry, Granger_, he thought.

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><p>AN: **hope everyone had a great New Years! i felt bad with leaving such a cliffhanger at the end of the last chapter. lol so here's another :) **

**also, the last chapter with strict Dramione action was probably the first one in the coffee shop. so here's a little gift with a mostly nude Draco Malfoy :D like we don't all see THAT in our dreams lol ;P **

**anyway, i'll try to update as frequent as i can! reviews help and school . . . well it doesn't help at all. so, let me know what you think! thanks for reading! :)**


	9. Chapter 8

Draco let the feeling of Hermione's fingers against his palm sit for a minute before he let their world get twisted, turned, blurred and stretched. When he took in a deep breath through his nose, they were at the front entrance of the Malfoy Manor.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather just have stayed home?" He asked quietly, his hand on the doorknob now, waiting for her answer.

Hermione hesitated, but nodded firmly. "I'm sure."

The door slid open slowly due to its weight. Chills ran up Hermione's spine and she could easily see the dark mansion now. She instantly felt cold and wished she brought a jacket instead of just a sweater. All she could hear was silence and that hurt her ears the most.

Draco led Hermione into his former home and shut the door. The noise echoed throughout the room and he felt uneasy. The sound of a horrid scream flashed through his mind and he could see Hermione lying on the floor, Auntie Bella draining out every ounce of energy from the girl through her torture. That picture had haunted his dreams more than once and when Bellatrix died—he couldn't say he felt the least bit sorry.

"Did you tell her we were coming?" Hermione whispered, keeping her eyes looking up the master staircase.

"I owled her earlier this week." He replied in a tone slightly louder than hers. "Apparently she's still expecting me or else we wouldn't have been able to get through. We'd be standing at the gate right now—possibly burned and somewhat delusional."

Hermione heard the sound of footsteps and unconsciously stepped closer to Draco. The floors, the walls, the paintings, the furniture—they all felt like they were eating her alive. She could feel her paranoia kicking in and she licked at her dry lips. _Breathe, Hermione, breathe_, she thought.

"Draco?" Narcissa Malfoy appeared out of the entry way to what seemed to be the kitchen. "Draco, darling!" Draco walked towards her and her open arms. His mother kissed both his cheeks and hugged him for a long while before releasing and combing his hair away from his face. "Where have you been? I tried owling yesterday you but you never replied. Did something happen, darling?" She asked with deep concern.

"I got sick, mother." He said calmly as she stopped messing with his hair.

"Sick?" Narcissa exclaimed, wide eyed. "Why didn't you tell me anything? Something could have happened!"

Draco chuckled, "Mother, I'm fine. Granger fixed me up well." He said.

Narcissa looked back at Hermione, standing awkwardly by the door. "You helped my son?" She asked, stepping more to Draco's side to see the mudblood witch completely. Hermione nodded and a stressed smile grew across Narcissa's face. "Oh . . . I see." She looked up at Draco, "That is very interesting."

"_Mother_ . . ." Draco whispered in a warning tone. "If it wasn't for her, I'd be dead and you'd be alone."

"Now don't take that tone with me, Draco." Narcissa bit back, "Keep talking like _that_ to women and you'll turn out just like your father."

Draco rolled his eyes, "I can assure you—that won't be happening any time soon." He stepped back and put a smile on his face. "We're going to check some things in the study."

Narcissa lifted a brow, "What ever for?" She questioned, looking from Draco to Hermione and back again.

"Juppy asks for directions on where to put the fancy plates, Lady Malfoy." A house elf came from the entry way to the kitchen, a pile of fine painted plates in her hands.

"Oh, here, let me help you with those!" The mother hurried over to the small, innocent elf and took some of the heavy glassed plates in her own hands.

"Juppy thanks Lady Malfoy for the kindness." Juppy smiled and Narcissa patted her head affectionately before turning back to Draco.

"As you please, darling." She turned and led Juppy back into the kitchen.

Hermione looked at Draco, and he just shrugged. "Nothing gets in the way with her and her fine dining." He began up the stairs, "This way."

* * *

><p>The Manor only felt as if it grew bigger and bigger by each hallway they turned into. Like a maze, it puzzled Hermione. How could someone feel comfortable in such a big, hallow house? The place had the dullest of colors decorating its walls and floors. It made her feel somewhat lonely and sad.<p>

Following behind Draco silently, Hermione reached her fingers out and touched one of the smooth walls while she walked. _If walls could talk_, she thought. She'd known Draco for what seemed like birth, but truly, his childhood was a complete mystery. There were wonders in the back of her mind. What was he like as a child—bratty or possibly forgotten?

"In here." Draco's low, rhythmic voice broke through her thoughts. When there was no reply, Draco looked behind him and Hermione met his eyes.

"What?" She asked, not understanding why he looked back.

"Uh," He cleared his throat, "Nothing." He said shortly and opened a heavy wooden door. Behind it lied a room lined with shelves touching the ceiling, with the exception of the wall with the huge window in the center of it. Books, parchments, boxes and more were collected along the shelves neatly. A desk was seated directly in the center of everything, parchments in the process of being written on scattered across it, still there.

Hermione, of course, didn't see any of this until Draco lit the room up with his wand. Her lips spaced at the sudden view. If there was an office like Dumbledore's for the Slytherin House—this would be it. Shivers ran across the skin on her arms and she remained still and quiet.

"Whatever my father knows—will be in here." Draco informed, walking further into the study. He placed his wand on the desk and began looking over the parchments.

"There's tons of stuff in here," Hermione said, walking over to a shelf and pulling out a book. "We're never going to find anything." When she opened its cover, the pages were old and covered in dust. She flipped through it and noticed how worn it was.

"We're bound to find _something_." Draco said muffled, his head searching down in one of the desk drawers. "Anything from Voldemort—a place, a quote, an item." He paused. "A _letter_."

Hermione looked through more books and some boxes. In the boxers were other parchments, badly treated. Edges were burned and some ripped. Other parchments she had found were completely torn to pieces. She'd have to use magic to even get a hint of what any of them said. Putting the box back where she found it, Hermione walked over to the other side of the room and did the same. Unfortunately, she found the same results of Lucius Malfoy's belongings.

"Malfoy," Draco looked up at her from his place on the floor, "Did your father always keep his stuff in such bad condition?" She didn't exactly see why she asked, but something about the thought of Lucius owning things so destroyed and invaluable looking sparked some interest.

"My father always kept his stuff with the best kind of care. He never let my mother and I even come close to his things." He answered simply, going back to his the parchment he was reading. "Why do you ask?"

"Everything is either burned, ripped or shriveled." She told him, putting up the book she had been looking through. Its weak pages almost broke off on their own.

Draco looked up again, sharper this time. "What are you talking about?" He got up and walked over.

Hermione took another book from the shelf and handed it to him. The title read: _A Malfoy Era_ by Jonathan Dohart, 1975. She guessed it was a biography about the Malfoys back in those years. It looked like rubbish to her. However, when Draco opened the book and saw its remains, his face scrunched with confusion.

"This was one of my father's favorite books." He shook his head, running his long fingers down the spine. "This can't be the same book."

"Or maybe someone got here before us." Hermione offered, continuing her search.

Draco glanced up from the book at her, and then towards the desk. "Nothing in or on the desk is ruined. That makes no sense."

Hermione tugged out a small black box that looked like it had jewelry in it and pried it open. Inside was nothing but burnt velvet cushions. "Maybe whoever got here first cast a spell over everything in the room so any other information regarding the letters couldn't be found."

"And the desk?" He urged, wanting to hear what she had to say about that one.

"A protective spell. Sort of like a ward, but possibly different considering you were able to make contact with it." She replied casually, snooping around the shelves curiously.

Draco figured she'd say that and had his reply ready, "In that case, there's a pretty high chance there's things—information—missing from the study. "Search all around, see if there's anything surviving." Hermione did so and Draco went back to his own work.

The search went on for a few more hours. Everything had some sort of repelling charm and none of their magic could get through to fix the items. Words were smudges and withered to the point no human eye could make them out. Nothing on the shelves was particularly missing, but Draco was at a loss when it came to his father's desk. He had never looked inside and he had no idea what it held in the first place.

"So there's one thing I don't understand." Draco spoke through the silence. Hermione glanced at him from the other side of the room. He said, "If this 'Chosen One' is, as you say, strictly after the letters—why did Death Eaters attack you and George during work?"

Hermione thought about it. He made sense, of course. She hadn't really thought of it that way before. "Perhaps there's—"

"—_a letter there_." They finished together, a grin on Hermione's face. Draco raked his hair back and went back to the reading he had been doing. "At least we know where to search next if nothing shows up here."

Thirty more minutes of utter silence and Draco had had just about enough of his searching. Whoever demolished this place did it well and there was no use in analyzing useless evidence. He sighed, almost loud enough to be a groan, and rubbed his eyes.

"There's nothing." Hermione returned the sigh and leant back against the tall shelves, her arms folded around a heavy book.

Draco shuffled through the mess he had made upon the desk and took two books he had retrieved. He stood and began walking them over to the shelf Hermione was standing at as she turned around.

Hermione slid the large book into its place on a shelf higher than her head. She turned around and Draco had his arm lifted above them both, sliding back his own few books. Her breath caught at the sudden enclosed distance between her and Draco's chest. He had his other arm around her other side, his hand holding on to the shelf for balance.

Eventually, his arms came down and Hermione could breathe again. Draco noticed the light color on her cheeks and grinned. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was invading your personal space, Granger." He teased.

Hermione felt as if she was the only one aware at how little space was between them. "Move, Malfoy." She said, desperate to keep her voice even and collected. Turning to walk away, Draco caught her arm sharply and nudged her back against the shelf slightly.

"Wait," He said, his voice thick and low. Hermione looked up in his silver eyes, her body frozen in place at his sudden strong grip on her arm. Her brain screamed to shove him away, but all she could see was silver. His face grew closer to hers and Hermione bit her lip, nervous. "You have something in your hair." He said bluntly, taking a piece of shredded parchment out of her curls.

"You're a prat." She grumbled, tucking the curls he touched behind her ear.

Draco chuckled, walking back towards the desk now. "I'm sorry I didn't rip off your clothes and take you up against my father's book shelves, Granger." He looked at her innocently. "Not to say that isn't tempting—but there are bigger things to worry about, no?"

Hermione knew she was about to lose her patience. She suddenly felt sorry for any girl Draco Malfoy had ever shagged. How could they put of with it? He was like a bag of tricks—and she felt even stupider, considering the fact she worked with a practical professional trickster every week. She should be used to it by now. Unfortunately, she needed to re-evaluate what she was dealing with when it came to _this_ Malfoy.

"Whatever." She said quietly. "Let's go. We need to ask your mother about some things anyway."

Draco watched the way she straightened her clothes in a frustrated manner and avoided his presence again. He was used to it, of course, but it still amused him. She got so irritated with him and he knew he wasn't the only one that liked seeing Hermione Granger off her edge. He studied her a minute longer. The way her jeans fit her legs, the color shirt she was wearing and how it tightened against the upper parts of her chest, how long her curls fell—which was about to her shoulder blades, and also how wonderful her scent was. Whatever shampoo or perfume she was using was _defiantly_ working for her.

He mentally kicked himself. She was staring at him now, an eyebrow raised in question. Damn. He'd been staring—he knew it.

"Are you coming?" Hermione asked, her arms folded across her chest.

Draco blinked few times. "Yeah, uh, I'll be right there." He said and she walked out hesitantly. He used his wand to clean up the room's mess and took one long look at it before taking his steps towards the door.

Draco tried not to think about any childhood memories, but there at the window stood his father, looking out to the yard. Running past him was his younger self, dressed in the button up PJ's his mother always bought him. He'd call for his father and Lucius would turn around, the faintest smile across his pail lips. Little Draco showed him a picture he'd drawn of the family with the additional house elf here and there. Lucius would pat Draco's head and take the picture he was being given.

Now that he thought about it, Draco never knew where those pictures ended up. He always assumed they'd been burned or stored away where no one would see them. Malfoys didn't doodle silly pictures like that. Malfoys walked with elegance and made sure people were put in their proper places.

With another small sigh, he killed the lights and turned.

"_Draco_!"

The scream was so sharp and loud Draco almost covered his ears. It was Hermione's scream. She was being dragged along the floor, her arms and legs restrained with thick ropes from what he could see. Draco's heart began to pound and he struggled for his wand. "Let me go! _Let me go_!" Hermione cried, struggling with everything she had.

"_Stupefy_!" Draco shouted, only to have his spell instantly deflected.

A man cursed Draco before he had the chance to call for his wand back. He was knocked to the ground, his head hitting the cold wooden floor beneath him. Draco winced and reached for his wand near by. Once in hand, he cursed the man with a _Crucio, _but the man just deflected it even quicker.

"Let go of me! Please! _Stop_!" Hermione was screaming at the top of her lungs, kicking the ground with her restrained ankles and causing the disgusting looking figure dragging her along to get annoyed with the struggle.

Draco clawed his way past the Death Eater looking man and tried to get Hermione. He was caught mid run and thrown to the ground. Gritting his teeth, Draco took the man's foot and yanked him down hard, highly enraged. "_Petrificus Totalus_," He hissed and hurried after Hermione down the hall.

"_Imperio_."

Draco stopped, frozen in place.

"Well, well, well," Scabior walked forward out of the darkness of the hallway, a smug grin on his face while he not only held his wand, but Hermione's too. "Little Draco Malfoy sure does put up some fight." He chuckled, "Isn't that right, Greyback?"

Greyback grinned, his ugly teeth flashing under his lips. Hermione gasped breathlessly at the name and looked up to see the horrifying eyes of the werewolf staring down at her.

"Doesn't matter, though." Scabior shrugged a shoulder, glaring at Draco through his heavy charcoal that outlined his eyes. "She's mine now. Rich boys don't get _everything_ they want, now do they?"

Inside, Draco could feel the fire, boiling from his anger, melting his skin. He tried to fight the curse, but it was useless and he felt beyond trapped. He needed to break free—he needed to get Hermione.

Scabior forced Draco to lift his wand to his own neck. "I should make you hex your own head off."

Hermione pulled forward against the ropes restraining her, "Draco!" She cried, shifting to get free and to his side.

"Hush, beautiful." Scabior didn't look at her as he spoke. "He's under my control now."

"Don't you _dare_ hurt him!" She hissed through her teeth.

"Or what?" The Snatcher challenged, looking down at her with amusement in his cool blue eyes. She was quiet, glaring at it him so hard it was painful to look at. He sighed and tapped the end of his wand at his lower lip. "Fine, fine. I won't kill the Mummy's Boy." He then pointed his wand at Anton lying on the floor in pain from the battle he fought with Draco and healed him up quickly. "Dolohov—get up. We're leaving."

Greyback tossed Hermione over his shoulder. She screamed and kicked but he remained calm and still, not phased by her strength or noises. "The boy?" He asked in his usual hoarse voice.

Scabior glanced back, "He'll be fine."

The three Snatchers and Hermione stood at the end of the hall and vanished, dust circling the warped air. When they were gone, Draco was released from his curse and he stumbled forward a bit. "Damn it, damn it, damn it," He chanted while running to find his mother.

Narcissa was in the kitchen when she was released from her own Imperio curse. She felt a bit light headed and took a seat at the table in the nook of the kitchen. The elves were also released and immediately asked if she was alright. Her son came rushing into the kitchen suddenly.

"Mother?" He moved to her quickly, "Are you alright?" He asked, touching her shoulder.

The woman nodded and placed her hand over Draco's. "I'm fine, darling. I am." She shook her head, "I was just helping the elves with the organizing when I was suddenly placed under the Imperio curse out of no where! It was quite strange really. I didn't get a chance to look at who did it—but, oh, it was awful!"

Draco nodded, "They were Snatchers. They took Hermione." He grimaced at the thought.

Narcissa gasped, "Oh, dear, are you sure?" She stood, "They took her? Just now? Merlin!" She exclaimed, not believing her own ears. "Well do you know where they went? That poor, poor girl." As much as she felt disconnected with the half-blood witch, Narcissa could only imagine what kind of traitorous things those men could be doing to her. She'd seen what they had done to others and it was breath taking in all the wrong ways.

"No," He shook his head, "But, Mother, I need to ask you some questions."

They took a seat at the circular table and his mother nodded, "Yes, anything, darling. What is it?"

"The stuff in Father's office," Draco began, "It's all ruined. Someone broke in and wiped out any information Hermione and I needed." Narcissa looked confused. "Who broke into the house, Mother?" He asked sternly.

Narcissa shook her head, "I can assure you no one was here. Not that I know of, anyway. I've been here in the Manor the entire week and longer. No one has come in recently but the elves and you."

"Think," He urged. "There has to be someone or something."

"The only people that have ever broken in are the ones that started to attack you way back when."

Draco couldn't put the pieces together. "They must have erased your memory." He said under his breath. It was the only thing he could think of. Nothing else really made sense. Unless, of course, the people that had attacked him those few years ago really_ did_ take the information then. "When was the last time Father's study was cleaned?" He asked.

"The elves went to dust in there just last week." Narcissa said simply. Draco then rubbed a temple, his head beginning to hurt from the fall. "Draco, dear, what is this all about?" She asked in her motherly toned voice, calm and soothing.

Draco sighed heavily, "There are letters . . ." He licked his lips and stared down at the kitchen floor. "Letters written from Voldemort." Narcissa's lips parted in shock. "He wrote things in there. Instructions of some sort—and there's a man. He's searching for them right now, calling himself the 'Chosen One'." He scratched the top of his head, feeling sore all over.

Narcissa took a minute to take it all in. "So why did they take Hermione?" She asked.

"I have no idea," He said. There was a deep need for sleep growing through his system. "But I have to find her before its too late."

"Yes, yes," Narcissa stood and called for her wand. "Let's get you all healed up. No sense in going after her if you're all beat up." Her smile was warm and Draco allowed himself to hope.

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><p>AN: **sorry for that wait, guys! i hope you like this chapter! :) **

**THANK YOU SO MUCH REVIEWERS! i love you guys to death! **

**i'll try and update as soon as possible. once again, i am sorry for any of my mistakes. i usually read back over it a few more times after i edit just to make sure. then again, it doesn't always fix everything. XP what can i say? i'm only human. **

**Juppy, is in fact, made up. so if you were a little confused as to who the house elf was-there's your answer:)**

**if i can at least get 3 reviews, i'll work super hard on chapter 9 because i'd hate to leave y'all hanging AGAIN. lol :D love you guys!**


	10. Chapter 9

A/N: **wow, i am SO sorry for that wait, guys! please enjoy and i'll try updating as frequently as possible! midterms put a downer on things and i had no motivation to write. **

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><p>A man.<p>

A man in an ugly drench coat and black shoes walked along the dark parts of Diagon Alley. His shirt was tight along his lumpy belly, while he struggled to keep up his pants every now and then. On his head was the brightest shade of brown hair, combed over neatly—but ridiculously.

This man was Draco Malfoy.

"Oh, I'm sorry, mate. I didn't see you there!" Ron Weasley patted the stranger's shoulder after accidently bumping into him, walking in long strides from his brother's store. The man just nodded nervously and kept walking, never looking back even for the quickest second. Ron scratched the back of his neck and went along with his own business.

Draco swallowed and thanked Salazar his disguise was working perfectly. He wasn't sure whose looks he had taken on, but he knew it was no where near what he would have preferred to look like. Fat and idiotic looking wasn't exactly _in_.

Another few minutes of walking in the stranger's shoes, Draco found himself at the entrance to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He looked around and walked in, avoiding the running children and barbaric activities. The store must look like the Weasley household—chaotic and loud.

"'Ello!" George greeted with a crooked smile across his face. "Can I help you with anything, sir?" He asked, walking along side Draco, appearing to look like a middle aged fat man.

"Oh," Draco hesitated, forcing himself to sound like he looked and not who he was. _Ha_, he thought, _story of my life_. "No. Thank you." He murmured, attempting a smile. His lips only curved into a weird looking slur of muscle movements and he walked off, leaving George a bit confused.

Stepping into an isle that housed different types of education magic tools—the kind no kid would actually want to use, but Draco guessed was required at some point to show the store actually had value besides turning everyone else's' lives into a living hell—and slipped out his wand from inside the ratty drench coat. "_Imperio_," He whispered into the air and everyone around him froze in time.

He took a moment to look at the view. There were three boys, around ten, fooling around with the dragon in its cage and a little girl pulling on her mother's skirt, probably begging for something she couldn't have. In the corner were some older boys, one laughing and the other with his eyes darted in the direction of the love potions where another girl stood, looking hopeless and humiliated. Near Draco, was a pair in mid-snog. Their tongues playing a game he would have rather not witnessed in the frozen state of mind. What kind of store was George Weasley running here?

Draco shook his head and went back to his own business after putting up an invisible charm to the passing crowd outside the windows. "Where do I even start?" He said to himself, biting his chubby lip before readjusting his fingers around his wand.

Making a decision, Draco walked to the back storage room and searched quickly. Of course, he found nothing. By the time he had scrimmaged through all the junk Weasley had back there, his fingers were bleeding for answers. For anything. Draco decided he wouldn't have minded being attacked by a few Death Eaters then. Or even Snatchers.

Being on a tight schedule and not getting what you need to get to the next appointment on that schedule was _hardly_ infuriating. Not to mention, having the same people in the same position was getting tiring to see.

What he really wanted to see was Hermione, safe, in his flat. Not in the hands of some pirate looking Snatcher with eye liner and a best friend that had more hair on his face than Hagrid. The image of Hermione being dragged around had really done him well this time. He had counted his blessings, nonetheless. Auntie Bella wasn't on her and carving 'mudblood' into her arm—so that was a plus.

A few more minutes went by and Draco decided to search elsewhere. Maybe he could try and take a peak into his mother's memories. Or even tap into the Ministry files. Anything was better than wasting more time.

Once he took a few steps towards the exit, he froze.

The wood made a strange noise and Draco noted it very well. He stepped over the same area in the isle again and heard the noise once more. It was hollow. He grinned and pointed his wand towards the wooden floor. With a flick of the tool, the wood pealed itself open and Draco's eyes feasted upon a thin rectangular object, sealed with a Dark Mark.

Draco thought before acting. The Dark Lord wouldn't just leave a letter lying around. These pieces of information would have been particularly protected by some sort of dark magic. Draco pointed his wand again, and sure enough he saw the poison coating his prize.

Thinking quickly, he said, "_Geminio_," and picked up his copy of the letter. He wasn't sure why the poison hadn't transferred over as well. However, he guessed it was because Voldemort had only placed the curse on the more valuable of letters—not worthless duplicates. Draco, though, did not find this letter worthless at all. It'd get him to Hermione. It had to.

Fixing the mess he had made at the shop, memories destroyed and items back in their proper places, Draco Apparated home. He immediately changed his form and shook slightly, as if to shake off any of the stranger's skin that didn't wither away with the spell.

Draco opened the letter slowly, only to have his world crushed a little more all over again.

The letters weren't in English at all. In fact, he didn't even recognize this type of language—or writing. It was official: underestimation wasn't in the cards.

Not in this game.

* * *

><p>Hermione opened her eyes. It felt like lifted weights. She hadn't been here long, but her body felt like a hundred centuries had been dumped over every inch of her body. Licking her dry, cracked lips, she forced her head to turn and look around. It was a tent, she was sure. Where? She had no clue. The air was chilly, but not too cold, while the atmosphere stayed silent.<p>

Trying to think back, all she saw were sharp yellow teeth. Dangerous eyes. And Draco.

_Draco_.

The thought of Draco made her ache more. What had happened to him? Was he okay? Hermione swallowed and shifted, realizing now that her hands were tide securely above her head. Her wrists hurt at every move, the rope digging into her flesh. She winced and bit her lip, fighting back the tears.

"Finally awake, beautiful?"

Hermione looked up at the man walking towards her in slow, steady strides. "_You_ . . ." She hissed, oozing hatred from the deepest parts of her soul. "Let me go. Now." She demanded, hating the grin across Scabior's pleased face. Yes, she remembered him all too well. All up to the point when he cursed Draco.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, love." He replied, fetching a glass of water from a nearby table. Scabior bent down and looked into the woman's deep chocolate eyes. "Drink." He commanded softly.

"Let me go." She said icily.

Scabior sighed at this. "Don't be difficult." He said and nudged the glass at her lips. "Drink this or I'll—"

"You'll what?" Hermione challenged. "Hex me? Rape me? _Kill _me?" Her lip curled and he remained firmly quiet. "Do it. I'd rather be dead than sit in here one more minute, you foul—" She was put to halt when the fresh cold water was forced down her craving throat. She swallowed, regardless of the dangers she could be facing when drinking something from a stranger. She was dehydrated and _needed_ the water—like she needed Draco then.

Scabior stood when the glass was empty. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" He chimed, walking and setting the glass down. He stared the mudblood down. She was quiet something, wasn't she? A perfect mind with the right curves in the right places. He could do wonders to that body. Oh, but he'd keep her. He'd keep her all for himself once this was all over. He wasn't going to let some arse of a chosen one harm her. That mind, that body, that _scent_—all his.

Hermione looked the other direction and blinked. "He's coming for me." She said quietly, but loud enough for the Snatcher to hear.

"Who, beautiful?" Scabior barked a laugh, flashing his surprisingly clean teeth. His blue eyes beamed with humor as he took a seat at the table a ways away from where Hermione sat, bound. "No one's coming for you."

"Yes," She looked sharply at him then. "Draco's coming. He won't let me sit here and rot in front of the likes of you." She held his eyes. "He might like me to rot—but, believe me when I say, Draco takes pride in what he controls. If he isn't the one watching me rot—you sure as hell won't be."

Scabior looked at her as if she were joking. "The Malfoy boy?" He chuckled, "I'd like to see the day when _that_ happens, love."


	11. Chapter 10

Hermione sat in silence the next few days. She was in desperate need for a shower. The tent's own personal dirt was rubbing off on her and she had to sit there and take it, resulting in the feelings of utter grossness. She'd watch Greyback walk around with blood around his mouth from whatever—or whoever—he had just eaten, as well. Anton kept to himself, but chatted among the other two like any other man. Scabior, however, she tried to avoid the most. He'd walk by and put some hair behind he ear when she was dozing off into a sleep. He'd give her food and water. She rarely ate anything and only drank the water he provided when she couldn't stand it any longer.

The Snatchers acted as if she wasn't there the majority of the time. When she needed to use the restroom, Anton was the one to guide her to their bathroom in the tent built with magic qualities. His wand was constantly at her back and she never fought it. Although, it made her question why Scabior didn't do the pleasure of taking care of the new pet himself. Perhaps he didn't trust himself.

If that were the case, Hermione was glad.

The night fell fast and Hermione had been working on a plan for hours now. Since Apparating wasn't an option due to some strange magic—she was going to escape and Apparate once she was out of the tent. She had no choice. She could practically see Draco going insane back in his flat, trying and questioning everything for the answers or any leads on where the Snatchers had taken her. Deep down she wasn't sure if that was exactly the case. It was Draco Malfoy, after all. But if she was wrong and he was really trying to find her, she wouldn't blame him for not coming sooner.

The information in this situation was lacking by extreme measures. They had no idea who this chosen one was and why she had been kidnapped in the first place. There was also the fact people were being killed and there were letters still to be found. The number of letters was also something they didn't know. Hermione could have screamed in frustration at their lack of knowledge towards the matter. They weren't going to get anywhere with out it—or with her currently tied up in a Snatcher tent.

So, she'd escape. Tonight. She had seen Greyback reposition her wand in a different bag near Scabior's bunk. In exactly five minutes she'd request to use the bathroom. When that would happen, Anton would go and retrieve her without another word. She'd pull him in the bathroom along side her and take his wand—instantly putting him under an _Imperio_ before he had the chance to do anything different.

Fighting off the other two would be difficult, but she'd have to manage. Every other hour, Greyback stalked into the kitchen for some fire whiskey, which he didn't mind engulfing within two seconds. If Hermione timed it right, she'd put her plan into action when Greyback was at his drunkest. Meaning Scabior would go after her before he sobered up the clumsy drunken werewolf. There'd only be one with a wand and completely dangerous.

Hermione was pulled out of her thoughts at the sound of Greyback's disturbing voice. "Why can't we just take her now?" He questioned outside the tent entrance.

"I told you why." Scabior said sharply. "He doesn't want her until tomorrow."

"Is the bloke really _that_ busy?" Greyback demanded, scratching his nose with a long yellow fingernail. "I'm sick of it here." He said and Hermione could instantly tell he had already had his serving of fire whiskey by the slur in his words. "She's not even entertaining and I haven't had a good meal in days."

Scabior grumbled, "Why don't you just shut the hell up already, eh? You're not the only one being tortured in this situation, you arse."

Hermione rolled her eyes. They were talking about the Chosen One, she knew, but when the conversation is between a man with a red streak in his hair and a werewolf that likes to drink his problems away—it tends to make a person crack a smile.

"Anton?" Hermione called innocently.

Anton awoke from his place on his bunk and rubbed his eyes with a yawn. "Mhm . . ." He mumbled and slugged his way over to her, his wand tightly in hand but his eyes shadowed over by heavy lids. "Lets make it fast." He told her quietly, probably due to the fact he was only half awake.

Hermione nodded and led the way towards the bathroom. Stepping through the doorway, she turned to look back at Anton with a smile. "The ropes?" She gestured at her wrists and he nodded, magically untying them. Once the skin on her wrists could breath, Hermione gripped the Snatcher and pulled him in after her. His eyes were wide open now and he opened his mouth the say something, but Hermione crashed it shut with her own lips. She wasn't sure why, but kissing was the only thing that came to mind to stop the man and escape.

Anton's eyes widened even more but closed tight when she slammed him into the opposite wall, kissing him and teasing his bottom lip just enough to make him groan into the action.

Without thinking any further, Hermione took the man's wand and cursed him. She wiped her mouth and rushed out of the bathroom.

Greyback and Scabior were still outside, arguing while Hermione rushed silently over to Scabior's things. Her hands began to shake at the anticipation of the matter and she began to get worried she wouldn't make it in time. One bag lay empty when she was done with it. No wand. Some would think she was crazy for even thinking about staying for her wand, but if she left it—there was a good chance they'd be able to track her down all over again.

Hermione's hand hit something with the same pattern as her wand and her face lit up. She reached for it—

"I never took you as a thief, beautiful."

Hermione sprung up straight and whipped around, her hands behind her back. Scabior smirked and took a few steps closer. Hermione did the opposite and kept backing away until she hit a wall. Scabior found this amusing and cornered her with his own lean body. "What do you say you give back what you took now and we can pretend this never happened." He offered, breathing in the scent that still lingered through her tangled hair and dirty face.

"Get away." She ordered, but the threat slipped from her lips in the slightest whisper. The Snatcher was dangerously close to her face. She could smell the bark from the trees on his skin and the heat from his breath crawl up her cheek. "Get away!" She tried pushing at his chest, but Scabior just leaned into her more.

The man chuckled with a grin and kissed her neck lightly. "What makes you so cruel, love?"

"I'm hardly the cruel one in this situation." Hermione seethed, stretching her neck away from his touch. An awkward sensation slithered up under her skin and caused her to want to scream. This wasn't like anything she felt when Draco was leaning into her back in Lucius's study. This was plain insanity. "Leave me alone. Get away from me. You're a monster. A heartless—"

"Oh, and _he's_ not?" Scabior backed away a bit to get a clear view of her flushed face. He'd had his hands running up along her sides, pushing against her in all the right ways. He would have smiled at his accomplishments if he weren't so angry.

Hermione looked at him blankly for a second and then parted her lips to speak. He was faster.

"He doesn't give a shit about you, if you haven't already guessed." Scabior told her flatly. "Do you want to know why he keeps you around?" There was a pause and he grew a little closer again. "The Chosen One is going to kill off any former Death Eater that isn't following him. Guess who's first on his list? Exactly. Little Draco Malfoy will be dead before he gets to throw that little dick of his anywhere _near_ you, love."

Hermione's lips straightened into a firm line as he continued.

"He doesn't give one ounce of shit about you." The Snatcher said again. "You're smart. He can _use_ you. Use you to survive. To live the rest of his life with that arrogant son of bitch 'chosen one' out of his way." Scabior laughed coldly. "None of them will ever care about you like I do, beautiful."

"No . . ." The witch breathed.

"No? When the time comes, he'll leave you. He'll abandon you."

Hermione looked into his icy blue eyes. She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to let _this_ man see her cry. "You're wrong." She said, firmer now. "Draco—"

"Worked for the same man I did." Scabior finished, knowing that wasn't what she was intending to say. "He was on the same side I was. He watched you get tortured by his own family. He was a _Death Eater_, babe. Just look at that arm of his. The mark is still there. It'll never go away—and neither what he truly is." The man grinned.

"_Was_." Hermione spoke sharply, gripping her wand tighter behind her back. "Draco _was_ a Death Eater. He isn't anymore. He's changed. But you—you're still the same, doing the same thing you were doing years ago. Pathetic, isn't it?" She watched his jaw twitch and let Anton's wand fall to the floor at her feet. Holding out he own wand, she never let her eyes leave Scabior's. He was speechless for a moment, but she didn't hesitate. "_Stupefy_."

Hermione bolted out of the Snatchers' tent faster than she thought she could move. Greyback didn't even get the chance to stop her before she was sucked into the air and back in the familiar flat she felt more at home in than her own.

* * *

><p>Draco placed down the letter back on his bed when he was startled by a sudden noise in his flat. He took his wand in hand and threw open his door. He shouted out a curse without a second thought, but it was deflected within seconds and Draco was the one thrown back on the floor to his bedroom door frame.<p>

"Draco!"

Draco rubbed the back of his now sore head and looked up to see an on-the-verge-of-crying Hermione Granger standing in the middle of his living room. There was dirt smudged on her cheeks, her clothes weren't any cleaner, and her hair was pulled back in a tangled knot. His eyes rounded, but before he could stand, she was kneeling down on the floor in his arms, her face buried against his shoulder. "Granger?" He spoke and she looked up at him. Tears began flooding down her cheeks and he pulled her back in his arms tightly.

"Draco." Hermione said again through her sobs.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Draco nuzzled his head against Hermione's. He'd been researching for hours, only finding sleep when he wasn't looking for it. His back hurt a bit and he grew dark circles under his eyes once again. He began to think he knew what Potter felt like when it came to sleeping in peace. There was none.

Every thought about the letters and Chosen One got melted away for the moment Hermione threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tighter than he had ever been hugged before. She was here, with him.

He didn't have to worry for these few seconds.


	12. Chapter 11

Hermione woke under white sheets and a dark green comforter. Her head was rested on a large, soft pillow. She rubbed her eyes and pushed herself up in a sitting position. Her body was slightly sore and it hurt to move her arms higher than her shoulders when she went to stretch. Sighing, Hermione slid the covers from her legs and saw that they were bare. She gasped lightly and felt around her stomach to find she wasn't in her shirt either, but someone else's.

"Mmm . . . no, no, don'tstopthere . . ." Mumbled a Draco in a deep sleep beside her.

"Malfoy!" Hermione gave him a one hard nudge and he woke, jolting up straight.

"Huh?" He looked around and then calmed himself at the sight of Hermione. "Oh, it's only you." His eyes traveled downwards and back up again, and then he grinned. "So that's where the dreams came from." Draco mused and chuckled when Hermione saw a bump in the sheets, her eyes wide while the color red stained her cheeks.

"You're disgusting." She grumbled and looked away, bringing her knees up to her chest.

Draco shrugged and let his head fall back to his fluffy pillow. "I'm a guy, Granger. It's bound to happen _sometimes_." He shifted and closed his eyes, facing towards her while lying on his stomach once the 'bump' went away. "If anything, you should feel great. I just gave you a compliment."

"A _compliment_?" Hermione gaped, smiling in disbelief anyway.

"Yes, a _compliment_, you ungrateful woman." Draco grumbled. "I just said you look sexy in my shirt."

Hermione guessed that could have been true. She wasn't sure who he had been dreaming about—maybe her, maybe not—but she didn't care. She was currently distracted by Draco's smooth back and messy hair. Her thoughts led to one thing to another and she got out of bed quickly.

Had they—? No, most defiantly not. Hermione tried to think back and ignore the snoozing man lying in his bed in front of her. Walking in the restroom, her memory started flooding back once again. She had escaped from the Snatchers and Apparated here. She had heard Scabior and Greyback talking about the Chosen One. He wanted her, but not yet. Unfortunately, she had _also_ kissed Anton Dolohov.

Hermione grimaced hard and thought of Scabior so close to her body, they way he breathed slowly and kissed her neck in the gentlest way. He made her vulnerable for just a second—and in that second he was able to turn everything around and make her question Draco's antics.

Quickly, Hermione knelt down and opened Draco's bathroom sink cabinet. She searched for a spare toothbrush and nearly leaped for joy when she found one in a basket near the extra soap. Magically cleaning her teeth didn't seem enough this time. Once she felt content with her refurbished mouth, the witch turned on the shower, undressed and jumped in, scrubbing away at her body with the tropical smelling body soap.

Scrubbing Draco's shampoo through her curls, Hermione began humming.

* * *

><p>Draco woke to the sound of his shower. He raked back his hair and tossed the covers aside with a yawn. The natural light was burning through his curtains and he noted to buy darker curtains in the future. Especially if he was going to keep lacking this much sleep.<p>

Standing and stretching, Draco looked over at the unfolded letter and notes on his desk. He had tossed them over there when he and Hermione slept in his bed. She had looked a bit of a disaster and fell asleep under the covers almost immediately after he gave her a clean shirt to wear. When was the last time he let a woman sleep in his bed without some sort of benefit in the end? Draco couldn't remember.

Draco suddenly heard a soft humming melody from his bathroom and smirked to himself. "Granger." He shook his head and began to head out of the room.

"Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed from behind the bathroom door. Draco stopped and waited until the door opened. When it did, Hermione peeked out with a towel tied tightly around her soaking wet body. "Clothes! Where are my clothes?" She demanded. "Please get my clothes!" She shut the door and Draco walked over to the pile of dirty clothes on his floor.

He picked up her shirt, smelly and dirty and then let it drop off his fingers again. Draco walked over to his dresser. He pulled out a plain black shirt and his pair of dark green boxers. Draco knocked on the bathroom door and slid his hand in, giving Hermione his clothes, plus her own white cotton bra. He then walked out and to the kitchen before she could argue.

Minutes later, Hermione walked out of his bedroom in the small amount of clothing he provided and damp hair. Draco looked up from his breakfast, eye brows high and he flashed a toothy grin. "Hot, Granger." He teased.

Hermione shot him a glare, "I said _my _clothes, Malfoy." She walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge, searching for something to drink. "Where are my clothes?"

"I put them in the wash." Draco answered simply. "They were disgusting and smelled like a hairy nut sack of a deranged werewolf." He put his empty bowl in the sink and rinsed it.

"Oh." Hermione poured herself a glass of orange juice and drank it silently. "Thanks."

Draco began walking back to his room, "There's something you should see, too." He disappeared into the bedroom and came out with a piece of paper in his hands. Hermione's breath caught and she walked over with deep curiosity.

"Is this a—"

"Letter?" Draco nodded, "Found it under the floor of that Weasley shop. I made a copy of it. The original was poisoned pretty badly." He looked at her, "Only problem is they aren't in English."

Hermione lifted a brow, "Latin?" She asked and he shook his head. "Okay, well it shouldn't be a problem—we'll just translate it from whatever language it's in." She took the letter from his hands and scanned it over. She saw the writing and almost ripped the letter in half after trying to decode the message.

"See the problem now, Granger?" Draco took back the letter. "It's not in _any_ language I've ever seen before. I even tried reading it backwards or upside down. Nothing. I've been researching since the day you got taken and even the brilliant contraption called the 'internet' couldn't help."

Hermione thought a moment. She replayed his words: ". . . _not _in any language I've ever seen before . . ." How many languages did Voldemort know? Perhaps he had made up his own? No, that didn't seem right. Not a language seen, but maybe one _heard_ . . .

"That's it!" Hermione looked up at Draco. She took the letter and thought about Harry. She tried to remember the sounds he had made when he spoke like a snake. Some of the sounds matched up perfectly with the letters. "He wrote it in snake—in P_arseltongue_."

Draco took the letter back and looked at it again. "You've got to be kidding me." He skimmed it over and silently agreed with her. How had he thought of it before? Of course Voldemort would write in snake—he practically _was_ one.

"It only makes sense."

"Of course it does," He replied, "But do you know how to read—or even speak—Parseltongue, Granger?" She fell quiet and he sighed, "We'll just have to find somebody that does."

"Harry—"

"No." Draco shook his head, "If Potter's in on this we're sure to cause chaos. Think about it—he destroyed Voldemort and there's no doubt in my mind he wouldn't hesitate to do the same with however is after these letters, and the Chosen One knows it too." Hermione let him finish. "We don't know what he's capable of. We could be the reason for a whole new war. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

Hermione decided what he said was probably for the better. She tucked some curls behind her ear and avoided Draco's eyes. Some how, Scabior's words circled around her mind. Was he using her? In the pit of her stomach grew a small portion of anger. What if he was? What if he already had a hunch at what this Chosen One was planning to do with all the non-following Death Eaters? What if—

"What's that look for?" Draco cut through her thoughts abruptly. His arms were folded across his chest and he lifted a brow.

"What's _that_ look for, Malfoy?" She shot back, placing her hands sternly on her hips. "If you have something to tell me, I would highly advise you to do so right now." She told him like she spoke with Harry and Ron back in school.

"Excuse me?" He snorted, "If _you_ have something to tell_ me_—please do. I'd love to hear it."

Hermione huffed, "Oh, please, Malfoy." She let her hands drop and walked to find her clothes in the dryer. She then called for her wand. "I'm going home. I need to think."

"Think about what?" He followed, slightly angry and confused. "What's the problem, Granger?"

"You! You are the problem, Draco Malfoy!" She whipped around, her clothes and wand held tightly in her arms. "Why are you being so nice? Why are you constantly doing what you're doing? What are you getting out of it—life?"

"What are talking about?" Draco took the bridge of his nose between his fingers for a second and then took a deep breath. "Granger. I hardly see how _I'm_ the problem in _this_ situation. I'm nice because maybe being an absolute _prat_ all the time won't always get you anywhere. Oh, and I'm not expecting anything out of this but, yes, of course, _life_ and possibly a normal one!"

Hermione looked at the bundle of clothes in her arms, "That's not what I meant." She said quietly and Draco raised a brow.

"Then what _did_ you mean? For Salazar's sake, Granger, I can't read your mind!" Draco said.

"Scabior . . ." She began, "Scabior told me the Chosen One wanted all the Death Eaters that weren't following him dead. He was going to kill them all and you're first on his list. He told me you were just using me to stay alive. Using me, that's all you're doing. He told me to look at your arm—he told me it won't ever go away and neither will what you truly are . . ." She swallowed and fought back any tears threating to spill over. Scabior's words had hurt. "I told him you changed, I told him you weren't that same person—but I don't know if what I told him was anywhere near true."

Draco's jaw set a little tighter and he took a step back. "He's right." Hermione looked up at him then. He was touching his arm with the marking of a traitor on it. "It'll never go away." He caught her eyes. "This doesn't mark everything—this doesn't mark who I am now. I would have thought you would have seen that by now, Hermione." He looked hurt himself. "So what if I'm on that damn list? That doesn't mean I'm going to use you to stay alive. If you're trying to compare me to those idiots Potter and Weasley—you're highly mistaken."

"I wasn't trying to compare you to anything." Hermione said crossly.

"Good because I know what it feels like to be in something alone." He kept still. "If you left now, I'd do my best to stay alive by myself. I don't need you to _constantly_ watch my back. So don't worry. Whatever that Snatcher told you might be somewhat true—but all in all, he can kiss my ass." Hermione smiled and Draco leaned back against his door frame.

Hermione sighed and placed the clothes back in the dryer. They weren't dry anyway. "So you really do cover it up all the time, don't you?" She asked quietly, referring to his Dark Mark.

Draco shrugged a shoulder. "I don't like to look at it. It's a hassle placing a masking charm on it everyday—but it's better than letting it flash out to the world."

Hermione smirked, "It gives you a bad-boy look."

Laughing, Draco ran his fingers through his hair a bit. "Thanks, I'll use that next time I go out to another club."

"I need to go back to my flat anyway. I'm not exactly dressed to do anything productive." She tugged at the oversized black shirt and smiled weakly.

"I could think of a few productive things you could do in those clothes." Draco winked and she let out a laugh.

"Didn't you get enough of that in your dream?" Hermione shook her head and pointed her wand playfully at the man in his boxers. "Come anywhere near me, and I'll hex off your balls."

Draco just rolled his eyes, "Not before you get your way with them, right, Granger?" He walked completely into his bedroom and started his shower.

Hermione stood there, lips parted. _Only Malfoy_, she thought.

* * *

><p>AN: **whoo! 3rd chapter up in one night! i'm proud of myself:) **

**reviews do help! love y'all!**


	13. Chapter 12

A/N: **wow, guys, i am SO sorry for this super uber late update! :( i started failing two classes and that was a no bueno! lol so since i got one up to passing, i'm going to work super hard on uploaded at least another chapter this weekend. maybe two. but don't get your hopes up. haha :) **

**anyway! reviewers, you make my day :D lol thank you so much for all your reviews! they mean so much. **

* * *

><p>"Malfoy! Hurry up!" Hermione paced around the living room, slightly frustrated. When there was no reply from the man she had thought would always be a sworn enemy—she walked to his bathroom door and banged her coiled fist against its wood. "Malfoy, we need to go!" She groaned and leaned against the wall next to the doorframe. "What on earth are you doing in there? For Merlin's sake, if you don't hurry up I'm leaving without you!"<p>

Inside the bathroom, Draco examined his body in the mirror. He ran the palm of his hand down his abdomen, just to make sure he wasn't becoming _too_ soft. Draco flexed a few times and winked at himself. The hollering woman on the other side of the door kept rambling on and he grew tired of hearing her voice. Standing in his dark jeans, Draco opened the door with a flat expression, "Look, Granger." He started, "Some people like to look nice before they go out."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "We're going to my flat and the only reason _you_ have to go is because you refuse to let me go anywhere by myself!" She argued, "Now if you don't mind, I'd highly appreciate it if you put on a shirt now so we can leave. I'd like to get changed myself."

"I like a demanding woman once in a while," He gave a quick toothy smirk and took his gray long sleeve shirt from the bathroom counter, sliding it on quickly. "Alright, let's go." Draco said while he walked over to the bed to get his wand. Hermione had already packed the letter and her clothes in a bag currently hanging over her shoulder. "And remember: we stick together." He warned before they Apparated.

"Yes, I know." Hermione said and opened her eyes once they were safely in her own bedroom back in her flat.

Draco looked around and held back a small laugh at the sight of all her books, scattered across one side of her bed and floor. There was practically no use for the bookshelf in her room. It didn't surprise him she had a pretty simple style either.

"'Mione? Is that you?" Called a familiar voice from the living room.

Hermione gasped and yanked Draco into her closet. She grabbed some jeans and a tank top, throwing off the male clothes she was wearing and began struggling to put her own on in front of a semi wide eyed Draco. "Coming, Ginny! Just give me a sec!" When he tried to speak, Hermione shook her head frantically and pushed him farther back to her narrow closet until his back hit the wall.

"What are you doing in there?" Ginny questioned, her voice becoming clearer as she walked closer to the bedroom. "Are you changing clothes? 'Mione, seriously. It's not a big deal."

Hermione took all Draco's clothes in her hands and threw them at him before he had time to register, "Uhm, no, I was just, uhm—peeing." Draco lifted a brow and she just shrugged. "I won't go anywhere," She whispered and hurried out of her bedroom.

Ginny was standing and examining herself in the mirror hanging on the wall near the front door. She was wearing her casual jeans and sweater, but something was a bit different. "Where have you been?" She turned and faced her friend.

"Did you get a haircut?" Hermione avoided the question with another one. Ginny's hair _did_ look shorter now that she got a better look at it.

"Yes—but that's so not the point." Ginny said, sounding a little too much like Angelina. "Where have you been lately? I've owled you, flooed you and then I Apparate here and the place was completely empty! You've got Harry worried sick." Hermione was quiet and Ginny asked, "Have you got yourself a boyfriend, 'Mione?"

Hermione shook her head, "What? No! I've just been busy . . ."

"Not with work, I know that much." Ginny walked to the kitchen and searched for something small to eat. "George said you haven't been since Friday. That's not like you."

Draco listened from inside the closet. He bit his lip, fighting back the urge not to Obliviate Ginny and get the hell out of this flat. He was, of course, only standing in a dark closet surrounded by Hermione Granger's clothes.

Hermione sighed and tucked some curls behind her ear. "I've just been helping out Neville with some things." She lied and was grateful Ginny wasn't looking her way when she did.

"Neville?" Ginny lifted a brow while she munched on some crackers. "Neville Longbottom?" Hermione nodded. "What things?"

"Well," Hermione cleared her throat. "Some of his plants have been dying rather quickly and we've been working on some environmental friendly potions to help the plants grow longer and stronger."

Ginny snorted, "That is one of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard!" She paused. "Neville wouldn't let anyone touch his plants."

Hermione gave a weak smile, "You wanted to know where I've been and that's where—helping an old friend out with his plants and what not."

"Anyway," Ginny changed the subject nonchalantly. "Tomorrow we're going out to look for some shoes for Fleur and Harry thought it'd be a good idea to change into a more comfortable gown after the ceremony for the reception, so we'll need to look at some dresses too."

"I'm guessing you want me to join?"

"Well, of course!" She replied, "I need someone there to keep me sane. Plus Percy and his family will be coming in soon and you _know_ how they can be . . ." She faked a shiver and headed towards the Floo. Hermione let out a small laugh and walked along side the redhead. "We'll leave around noon tomorrow, so meet us up at the burrow, alright?"

"Got it." Hermione nodded and waved Ginny off.

As if on cue, Draco walked out of the bedroom with a conflicted expression. "You're not going." He said coldly.

"Well it's not like I can exactly get out of it, Malfoy." Hermione shot back.

"Sure you can!" He held her eyes. "And you will. There is no way I'm letting you go off with that Snatcher looking for you."

Hermione let herself smile, "How thoughtful of you, thinking about others before yourself. How does that feel?"

"I'm serious, Granger." He said between gritted teeth. "You're not going anywhere."

"I have to go," She said calmly, walking into her room and to the bathroom. "If I don't go, they'll get even more suspicious. You said so yourself. We have to get this thing out of the way and try not to get too many people involved."

Draco groaned and followed her. He watched her brush her teeth and pin half her hair back, in which seemed to take a lot of concentration to do it exactly right. He looked down at his hands and played with the ring on his finger. "Fine. Whatever. Go shop for stupid shoes."

Hermione had finished washing her face before she giggled, "And dresses." He rolled his eyes and she got serious, "Now, tell me who you have in mind for helping with this whole parseltongue dilemma."

"Just trust me on this." Draco grinned.

* * *

><p>"Oh, bloody hell." Blaise Zabini opened his front door to a view he hadn't expected. "You've<em> got<em> to be kidding me."

Draco flashed a smile, "Zabini." He said and Blaise cracked a smile in return.

"What in Salazar's sake brings you here?" He asked unbelievably. "I thought you were dead, mate!" The two men embraced for a quick second and continued on.

"Yeh, well, it's a long story." Draco shrugged a shoulder and glanced over at Hermione, keeping quiet. He looked back at Blaise, standing in the doorway of what looked like a nice home. "We need your help."

Blaise let the two in. They all sat in his small, yet livable, sitting area. His house was quaint and had a friendly vibe. Draco wasn't sure what had happened to his Slytherin friend, but when Parvati Patil walked out of the kitchen with a smile on her face—he knew. Blaise Zabini was happily whipped.

"Oh—!" Parvati face only brightened more and she brought Hermione into a girlish hug. "Hermione! It's so nice to see you again!"

"Love," Blaise touched Parvati's arm. "Don't suffocate the woman."

Parvati released with an embarrassed smile across her face. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I just got a little excited I guess."

Hermione smiled, "It's a pleasure to see you again too, Parvati." She took her seat next to Draco on the sofa and let her hands rest in her lap.

"Should I get some drinks, or food or—" Parvati began mumbling too quickly to understand clearly and Blaise smiled up at her from his place in the arm chair.

"Why don't you go check up on the little one and then we'll talk about it?" Her husband offered kindly. Parvati nodded and walked up the stairs calmly to whoever was waiting upstairs.

"Little one?" Draco lifted a brow, a smile grew on his face and it matched the one on his friend's face.

"Our daughter, yes." Blaise nodded and leaned forward, his elbows pressing into his thighs. "So, what is it you need help with?" He looked at Draco but seemed to avoid Hermione's presence.

Draco noticed. "Blaise, mate, this is Hermione Granger, if you hadn't remembered."

Blaise gave an uneasy smile in Hermione's direction. "Yes, I remember you all too well, Granger." He said, friendly, but still in uncomfortable manner.

There was a bit of awkward silence and Draco cleared his throat, "So, I heard you took some language courses back in Italy after graduation."

"That I did." Blaise nodded, "What of it?"

Hermione was glancing over at Draco now, highly interested in what he was going to say. "You wouldn't happen to have taken some on Parseltongue, eh?" Draco asked bluntly.

Blaise chuckled, "Parseltongue? Of course I did. I wouldn't miss out on a challenge like _that_! Once the Dark Lord fell—well, after he fell, people took the language as just something to learn for fun I suppose. There weren't very many people in the class."

Before Draco could reply, Hermione had taken the letter out of her handbag and handed it to Blaise. "We found this letter . . . in some of Draco's old stuff. We were just wondering what it said."

Blaise gave her a questioning look before unfolding the fragile letter. His eyes feasted upon the proper cursive writing in the snake language. His lips began moving silently, working at the letters and putting them together in words. "This says 'Chosen One'." Blaise pointed at the beginning of the first paragraph and showed the two.

Parvati came down then, a small smile still across her lips. Blaise called to her from his sitting place, "Love? Would you mind getting me some paper and a quill please?"

"Oh, sure, of course." The dark haired witch came back shortly with what he had asked for and Blaise kissed her cheek.

Once the woman was gone and walking back up the stairs with a bottle in her hand, Blaise began scribbling down words from the letter. He was deep in concentration and both Hermione and Draco couldn't help but get a little restless. It only took the wizard a little time to translate the entire thing—but it seemed like forever before the translated version was put in Hermione's hands.

"_Chosen One, you that have found this letter will fulfill my second set of instructions._" Hermione licked her lips and Draco gave her a look of uncertainty. She continued reading regardless, "_This world might be too kind, might be too blinded by the lies. I had only wanted to make it what it truly was. Unmask the devils in their disguises. Some of these people that don't deserve such a power that we have are those of mudblood decent or the mudbloods themselves. These creatures have the ability to expose us—destroy us. They can live among the Muggles and sleep along the Wizards. Our worlds are separate, they should have stayed separate. Now, my wish to destroy the mudbloods shall __come to life if you, Chosen One, make it so." _

Draco's lips had gone dry. Hermione had stopped talking for a minute, staring at the paper as if it were burning her fingers. He took the opportunity to grab it from her. "You don't need to read anymore." He said and folded the translation up.

Hermione looked as if she was going to argue back, but instead she stood. "May I use your bathroom please?" She asked Blaise and he nodded, gesturing its direction up the stairs. The woman nodded and walked away quickly.

"What is this all about?" Blaise asked in a demanding whisper.

Draco sighed and let his face fall between his hands. He sat there for a minute, breathing slowly. After a few seconds of rejuvenating himself, Draco picked his head up and asked, "Can I have a drink? Preferably something strong."

Hermione stared at her reflection and wiped her damp eyes. Slowly, she slid up the sleeve of her sweater and ran her fingers along the scar on her arm. That's all she would ever be: maybe the brightest witch of her age—but also just a mudblood with bushy hair. She sighed and slid back down her sleeve.

Walking out, Hermione shut the door behind her quietly. She heard a sweet humming noise from the room close by and peaked over silently. Near a small white crib was Parvati. She was holding a small pink bundle with a full head of dark hair popping out against her shoulder. Parvati bounced her daughter lightly and hummed a soft tune into the air, her eyes closed and relaxed.

A small smile escaped across Hermione's lips. They were so peaceful.

"So a Chosen One, eh?" Blaise nodded and played out all the information Draco had told him in his head, occasionally taking a sip of his drink.

Draco ran a hand through his hair, causing it to go a little disarrayed. "Yeah, but don't tell Granger I told you any of that." He mumbled.

Blaise chuckled, "You know," He said. "I knew there was something up as soon as I opened that door. There was no way Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy would be on my door step, together, and_ not_ bickering at each other."

"Is it really that hard to believe?" Draco questioned, slightly offended. "I've changed, you know."

An eye brow shot up on the married wizard's face. "Changed? Yeh, that I believe."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Whatever, mate." He put his empty glass down and stood from the kitchen stool. "You're the only other person that knows about all this stuff. I won't _Obliviate_ your ass. I've done enough memory erasing lately. I think its starting to give me wrinkles."

Blaise laughed, "Mate, you've _had_ those wrinkles."

Draco glared, "I didn't say I wouldn't hex you, Zabini." Blaise just shrugged with a toothy grin and Draco slid his hands deep into his pockets. "Thanks, though."

"What can I say? I missed seeing you around all the time, so I cut you some slack and helped you out." He replied simply and finished off the last of his drink. Draco chuckled. "You best be checking on that woman of yours, though. She's been up there for quite a while."

Draco was slapped back into reality and he nodded. "Right." He headed up the stairs. "Herm—" He cut himself short when he saw her standing at a doorway, looking calm and peaceful.

Hermione noticed Draco out of the corner of her eye and met his gaze. "Sorry, I was—well, anyway, we can leave now . . ."

Draco peaked into the room to see what she had been looking at and he smiled. "Blaise sure did get lucky, eh?" He whispered and Hermione watched Draco smile to himself while keeping his eyes on the mother and her daughter.

"I guess he did." She whispered back and turned to walk away from the doorway.

Draco followed and caught her hand before she headed down the stairs. "Its going to be okay, you know." He said quietly.

Hermione looked up at him and attempted a smile. Without another word, she slipped her arms around his torso. Draco was a bit taken back by the sudden action of affection, but slid his arms around her shoulders anyway. He felt her chest rise and fall while she breathed slowly. He guessed she was holding back from crying again, and that was okay. He really couldn't stand it when she cried. The sound was painful to his ears and it made him feel just as worse.

"We'll stop it." He said into the crown of her tropical smelling hair. He smiled to himself. She used his soap. "With your brains and my good looks—nothing can beat us."

Hermione laughed against his chest. "You're ruining the moment, Malfoy."

Draco just rolled his eyes playfully and tightened his grip around her shoulders a little more. He wasn't sure why, but he did. It was a nice feeling—this hugging for comfort thing. His mother had always tried to comfort him with her hugs, and they had worked when he was a child. But as he grew older, the love in those hugs grew more on the side of fear and he could tell. She was always scared for him. Scared for what he'd grow into, scared that she'd lose him forever.

Standing there in the loving family's home, Draco let his eye lids falter a bit. He stared at the ground behind Hermione while she gripped his shirt between her fingers. In that moment he didn't speak—not in English, not in Parseltongue—but in silence. Yes, silence. He knew that's the only thing she needed to hear for a while. Let her thoughts claim her once more. So. Silence it was, just for a little while longer.

* * *

><p>Scabior craned his neck back for a moment and sighed into the cold crisp air. He inhaled once more and set his neck back straight. In doing so, he rubbed his dark outlined eyes with the back of his gloved hand. Not only did the cold feel good against his worn out skin—but so did the quiet. No snoring Greyback or grumbling Anton.<p>

There was a sudden sound of warped air and Scabior turned around from his place near the tent and spotted a tired looking Cormac.

"Well, if it isn't the Chosen One's little bitch." Scabior said sharply. "Have fun doing your runs for the boss?"

Cormac's lip twitched. He hadn't had fun at all. Not that Scabior really intended for him to answer that question. "Have fun tormenting Granger?" He shot back evenly, but boarder lining a whining child.

Scabior cracked a sarcastic grin. "Maybe she wouldn't have gotten away if you weren't such a little saint and actually showed up this time."

"I do both jobs." He said flatly.

"Why don't you stick to one and leave for good?" The older man said in the same tone.

Cormac rolled his eyes. "Because you know the Chosen One wants me here and there." He replied and took a seat on a log near by, resting his legs.

"Yeh, well I honestly don't see why he even bothers sending you to us now and then. First he wanted you here all the time—now he takes you away and throws you back. We don't have time to keep changing our chances depending on our number of members. It makes everything more difficult."

"Funny," Cormac smirked and tried to attempt at a joke. "My mum used to tell me something similar back then."

Scabior didn't laugh. Or smile. "Doesn't surprise me."

Cormac frowned a bit. "Well I'm here now." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "So, tomorrow then? We start searching—for Granger?"

"No." Scabior shook his head and fiddled with the pink scarf, hanging loosely around his neck. "Tomorrow we get Charlie Weasley."

* * *

><p>AN: **anybody dislike Cormac like i do? haha sorry, just had to put that out there. :) hope you enjoyed! not too long of a chapter, but it's getting there! feel free to review too! love you guys!**


	14. Chapter 13

A/N: **wow, don't i feel like a failure! i am SO sorry again for this massive pause in the story! i got so busy i just totally spaced and i had a hard time deciding how i would start off this chapter. but, thankfully, i got brainstorming and i figured it out! :D**

**i know exactly where i'm going in the next few chapters with this, so give me some feed back! :) hopefully, i'll be able to write and get some more uploaded. **

**i am also working on some pictures for the story. i've drawn a few but haven't decided on if i want to post them up yet. so, be looking foward to some more Dramione :)**

**ps, just to be safe, i do not own Harry Potter or these characters. i just came up with the plot and went from there. thank you.**

* * *

><p>Blaise woke from his sleep early in the morning. Parvati was sound asleep at his side, her arm draped over his naked chest while her hair made a web over her pillow. He smiled to himself and moved her arm gently away. Standing quietly, Blaise stretched his arms and yawned.<p>

Across the hall, the baby was also in a deep snooze. Blaise checked his daughter in her room and planted a kiss on her small forehead before making his way downstairs and into the kitchen for a glass of water.

The kitchen curtains had been left unclosed and the natural light beamed through, lightening up the kitchen. The dark skinned wizard avoided looking in the bright light direction before his eyes settled. He poured himself some water and took a gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand when he finished. Things were quiet. Too quiet. Blaise found it relaxing and utterly intolerable at the same time. He supposed he was used to his daughter wailing every morning than for his home to be so quiet like it used to be.

Blaise finished his water and put it away in the sink. When he headed back for the stairs—he noticed something. Someone.

"Beautiful morning, isn't it Blaise?"

Blaise's eyes rounded, "Wh—what are you doing in my house?" He asked, growing on anger and fright.

The Chosen One simply shrugged a shoulder and stayed in his relaxed position on the couch. He played with the fabric of the cushions and kept his eyes locked with the other man. "You say it as if I weren't already invited." Blaise remained jaw set and silent. "Oh, come on, Blaise. We've gotten past this already, have we not?" The Chosen One cracked a smile as if they were playing a little game of joking around.

"Right." Blaise hid the sarcasm. "Well, I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."

"Hmm," The man in dark clothes thought a moment. Or at least _pretended_ to. "I don't think that will be too necessary just yet, my friend. You see, I have some things I need to discuss with you."

"Is that so?" Blaise expected as much.

The Chosen One nodded and stood, making his way over to Blaise while he spoke. "You helped them, didn't you, Blaise?" There was silence. "I don't believe that was in our deal."

Blaise licked his lips, "It was just one letter—"

"_One letter_? One letter!" The Chosen One barked a laugh, rough and icy. "One letter too many, Zabini! You were not given permission to help _anyone_—not even those pathetic little twits. Do you understand? One letter leads to two letters and then three. If they figure it out before I do—everything will be ruined. Do you here me? _Ruined_!"

Blaise flinched at the lack of space between him and the Chosen One. The man hissed and didn't fail to make his point very clear. With all the yelling, Blaise didn't see how the baby or Parvati didn't wake. However, it came to a conclusion very fast . . .

"If I find out you helped them again, I can put your wife and precious child right back in the slumber they're in now."

"What—?" Blaise felt his heart strain into fast beats. "What did you do to them?" He felt his hands ache to grab hold of the man's cloaks and coil them into his fists.

The Chosen One chuckled and shrugged a shoulder, "Nothing harmful, I promise."

Somehow, Blaise failed to believe this.

"As long as we understand each other, you do what I say—no one gets hurt." The eyes of the Chosen One were something Blaise avoiding at almost all times. The look he was receiving now was just one of the reasons he did. Blaise could feel is body growing tense like a type of infection crawling up his skin to envelope him whole. "Now, what did the letter say?"

"It . . ." Blaise swallowed and licked his dry lips. "It said something about a party. Finnigan's house. Three days from now. The letter will be there."

Blaise blinked a few times in the silence and then the Chosen One was gone, the wind he left behind stirred up the papers that had been sitting on the living room coffee table. There was a sudden noise of soft crying upstairs and Blaise almost jumped through the roof before jogging up the stairs and into his daughter's nursery.

The man wasted to time reaching the little crib and looking over the rail to find his daughter softly crying. Upon seeing her father, the infant's tears slowed down and she lifted her small arms up to meet him.

Blaise only smiled in great relief. He lifted the little girl into his strong arms and held her close, "It's okay, baby, I got you." He kissed her tender forehead and shut his eyes tight. "Daddy's got you."

"Blaise? Love?" Parvati appeared in the door way, rubbing her eyes. She yawned and walked over to Blaise and her baby. "Are you okay, love?"

"I'm just fine now." Blaise leaned over and kissed his loving wife. He tasted her lips as much as he could, not taking one second for advantage. If there was one moment he had ever thought he lost everything he ever wanted—it would have been then. The moment his heart almost collapsed. But that was then. Parvati and his beautiful child were here now.

And that's all that mattered.

* * *

><p>"What on earth happened to <em>you<em>?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she glared at the blunt Malfoy. "Oh, shut up." She grumbled and was tempted to shut the door to her flat. She didn't like the makeup anymore than he did, but she had promised Ginny she'd keep the makeover on for dinner with the family again. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Draco took his attention away from the make up scene going on all across Hermione's face and stepped inside without being invited. It's not like it mattered. After all, they were only fighting to save every mudblood around and possibly prevent another war within the Wizarding World. "I have some information regarding the letter, Miss Cheery." He rolled his eyes and wondered over to her kitchen.

Helping himself, Draco searched around for something to snack on. "Merlin, Granger, do you have_ anything_ to eat in this place besides these gross little crackers?" Draco tasted another and within seconds it was in the rubbish bin.

Hermione marched over and took the cracker box away from him. "I'd really like to hear that information you have now." She put the box away and handed him a green apple, the kind she knew he liked.

Draco smiled, "Better!" He took a big bite and sat up on the kitchen counter, dangling his feet while he thought of where to start. "Well, I finished reading the translated letter and it turns out our next destination will be The Finnigan household."

Hermione lifted a brow, "_Seamus's_ house? Are you sure?"

"Positive." Draco nodded and took another bite of his juicy apple. "The letter clearly stated: '_My next set of instructions will be lying along the most beautiful pearls and jewels, hidden from the human eye but touched everyday by the human hands—one woman's hands, in particular, with a label of two colors. There you will find letter number three, dearest chosen one_.'"

"You memorized that entire thing?" Hermione questioned, slightly impressed.

"A person tends to remember something if it just so happens to be on the obscure side. And this—more than obscure. So yes, I did happen to memorize it. That's beside the point." He bit into his apple and swallowed before continuing. "A woman with a label of two colors . . ." Draco paused to let Hermione think. "Have you got any idea what Lavender Brown's been up to lately?"

Hermione looked over at Draco sharply. "What do you mean?"

Draco took one last bit of his green apple, finishing it, and tossed it in the rubbish bin as he hopped back off the counter. "She's married to Seamus. Has been for about a year and a half now." He said while he searched for a drink.

Hermione couldn't believe her ears, but somehow it didn't quite surprise her all that much. "Seamus and Lavender, huh?" She shrugged a shoulder. "Sort of fits."

Draco chuckled, "Yeh, well, there was a bet going around back at school it would happen eventually." Finding a glass but nothing to put in it, he continued. "Anyway, Seamus is throwing a wine tasting party in a few days. I say we crash it and stall while one of us does some hunting and gets the letter."

"But how will we know exactly where to start?" She asked, pulling her hair up in a loose ponytail.

Draco gave her a look, "Is all that makeup on your face conflicting with your thinking process, Granger?" She folded her arms across her chest. "Lying along the most beautiful pearls and jewels? Call me a stupid bloke, but I would guess he's talking about a _jewelry box_."

Hermione mentally slapped herself. How did she not think of that? "Okay but what if we need an invitation to get into the party?"

"I'm Draco Malfoy. I don't need an invitation." He said flatly and set his glass down. "And I would really like something to drink."

Hermione opened a cabinet above her fridge and handed him a bottle of fire whiskey. He smiled, satisfied, and she said, "The Chosen One will probably be there too . . ."

Draco considered it. He hadn't really thought about that part. Maybe this party had more use to it than he imagined. "You could be right, but let's not get ahead of ourselves."

The witch nodded and watched Draco spin the liquid around in his glass. "I just don't understand why one of the letters would be at Seamus's house—of all places. Do you think they could have something to do with all this?" She asked, to her dismay. Lavender was clingy, demanding, oblivious and a bit crazy, but Hermione doubted she would involve herself with such a crime. Seamus, on the other hand, was just as unlikely to do so.

"That's a good question I have no answer to." Draco took a sip of his drink. "But I'm sure once we get there, we'll know."

"Did the letter . . ." Hermione hesitated and Draco looked over at her. "Did the letter say anything else about the mudbloods?" She asked quietly.

There was silence and he said, "Not really. I don't really remember either. I was sitting at the coffee shop while I read it and a lovely looking blonde just happened to walk by my table right when I got further into those details of the letter. I'm sorry to say, but I guess my mind wondered to more important things." He wiggled his eye brows and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Is there anything _else_ you think about?"

"We hate each other, Granger, so I feel I'm entitled to inform you when you ask stupid questions." Draco finished the last of his small portion of whiskey and sighed contently. "And that wasn't the brightest."

Hermione shook her head and put his glass in the sink. "Well if you don't mind I have to get ready to go soon. You know the way to the door, I'd hope."

Draco lifted a brow and followed after her towards her bedroom. "To Go?" He questioned, "To go where?"

Hermione opened her closet and pulled out a few different blouse choices. Once she laid them out on her bed, she sighed. She liked the white one with a pink flower pattern that didn't come off as too childish. It was semi transparent, so she'd wear her pink tank top underneath. Then there was the soft periwinkle sweater one with dark purple stripes, which went a bit better with the light denim jeans. Unfortunately, the third option also caught her eye—a light pink elbow sleeve length V-neck sweater.

"I'm going to have dinner with the Weasley's again. We're discussing some things about the rehearsal dinner." Hermione answered and stayed in her thinking pose when trying to decide on what shirt to wear.

Draco stood at the door, leaning against its frame with one shoulder. "Dinner with them again? Salazar's sake, it's like you live over there!" He put his hands in his pockets and waited for her to defend herself. She said nothing and he grew tired of the quiet. "What on bloody earth is so difficult about picking a shirt?"

"I just don't want to look as dull, is all." Hermione scratched out the flower patterned shirt and held up the other two options. "Which one?"

"The pink one." Draco answered like she hadn't even asked and continued, "Is there a reason you want to look less dull, Granger? Like a guy reason?" He urged on, highly intrigued.

Hermione didn't bother looking over at his face while she spoke. "No, of course not . . ." She put the other two shirts away after deciding the pink one _did_ look best. Draco kept his eyes on her and Hermione said sternly, "It's just dinner."

"Right. Let's see . . ." Draco thought a moment. "If you aren't with the Weasel anymore, there must be another single mate in that little nest of theirs. It can't be Bill or that Percy fellow."

Hermione's stomach suddenly started to feel a bit heavy. She didn't want Draco thinking she had any sort of feelings for Charlie. If Draco thought there was, she was sure to never hear the end of it. Plus, there weren't any feelings there. Not towards Charlie. Defiantly not.

"It can't be George either because he's dating that Angelina girl." Draco paused for a moment and lifted a brow, "It's Charlie, isn't it?"

Damn.

Hermione just continued on with trying to find the ballet flats she was going to wear. The silence must have meant a yes because then Draco smirked. "I'm right, aren't I? You have the hots for the dragon trainer! How cute."

The witch tossed a shoe at Draco's leg, barely missing. "Oh, please. We aren't children anymore. I do not have any sort of 'hots' for anyone in the Weasley family!"

"Is it because he has an exotic job that you find him so appealing, Granger?" Draco teased, loving the flushed look across her face.

Hermione found her flats and stood, patting the sides of her head to make sure she didn't ruin her tamed curls. "If I said yes, would that satisfy you, Malfoy?" She asked and went into her bathroom to change. While she did, she spoke through the door. "As a matter of fact, Charlie Weasley happens to be very handsome and his job fits him well. He's very muscular looking because of it," She appeared back out from her bathroom and tossed her old shirt on her bed. "And very charming, as well."

Draco rolled his eyes, lip curled. "I wouldn't say he's _that_ charming . . ."

Hermione slid on her shoes and grabbed her wand. She noticed Draco had removed his eyes from her and was staring down at the wooden floor. It had seemed that Draco wasn't the only one capable of playing games with someone's emotions. Hermione cracked a small smile.


	15. Chapter 14

"Mum," Ron said with a full mouth. "Where's Charlie?"

Molly stopped serving Teddy for a moment and thought. "Well, he hadn't told me he was going to be here tonight." She said thoughtfully and continued giving Teddy a few more bites of veggies. "He must be sleeping. You know how gets after work." She smiled.

Ron nodded, but the look on his face said he thought differently. Last time he had talked to Charlie, he had seemed pretty excited about the wedding preparations. More than likely, it was because it was Ginny that was the one getting married. Ron almost laughed at the memories going through his head when it was Percy who was getting married. Charlie nearly slept through the entire ceremony.

"I'm sure she's right, Ron." Harry nodded and took a bit of his good tasting food. He looked over at Hermione, quietly eating and barely looking up from her plate. "Right, 'Mione?"

"Hmm?" Hermione lifted her eyes. "Oh, right. Yeah, he's probably resting." She said and secretly knew that was the most untruthful act of kindness she had said all night. Mostly because of the way she said it. Her head wasn't all in the dinner tonight and anyone that knew her well could tell. Unfortunately, the two people that _did_ know her best were sitting across from her.

"Are you feeling alright, Hermione?" Ron whispered. Both he and Harry looked at her with concern.

Hermione felt like she was under the most ginormous spotlight she had ever seen. Pools of blue and green sank into her conscious and she felt like snapping. She felt like telling them everything—about the Chosen One, about Scabior, about the letters, about Draco. . . "I'm fine, really. Just thinking about a book I recently bought. It has quite the riddling plot." She put on a smile and wanted to cry for lying—again.

As she had sat there and ate, occasionally joining conversation not to seem too suspicious, Hermione thought about Charlie. She found herself a bit worried. Something wasn't feeling right about his absence. Hermione had also caught a glance at Mrs. Weasley once she turned away from Ron and continued serving Teddy. The look on her face then hadn't been so reassuring. In fact, it made Hermione worry more. It was Mrs. Weasley's motherly instinct and she didn't think _that_ had a big chance of being on the off chance.

Ginny had gone to use the loo and came out looking like she did when she went in—happy and content. Her smile, however, quickly faded when she saw the conflicted expression on Harry and Ron's faces. "Is something wrong?"

Hermione smiled up at Ginny while the redhead took her seat. "Nothing at all. Have fun in the loo?"

Ginny laughed, covering her mouth slightly. "Very funny, 'Mione." She took a sip of her drink and asked, "That reminds me, have you gotten yourself a bloke yet for my wedding?"

Ron coughed on his food when it failed to go down. "Blimey, Ginny. Did you have to go and bring up that sort of stuff right _now_?"

Ginny gave him a cross look while she took her seat. "Oh, shut it, Ron. I can bring up whatever I want to. It's only _my_ wedding." She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back on Hermione, who looked a bit uncomfortable. "So have you?"

"I, uh . . ." Hermione shrugged a shoulder. "Well, not yet."

"I hear Oliver Wood is still single."

Now it was Harry's turn to cough on his food. "Ginny—"

"He's aged well. I saw a photo of him in the Daily Prophet." Ginny winked.

Hermione considered it. She hadn't ever really had a full conversation with Oliver before. His time was strictly set on quidditch back in school. Not that that put any strain on his looks. It helped, as a matter of fact. Taking Oliver as a date to Ginny and Harry's wedding seemed a bit off, however. They hardly knew each other.

"I'll set up a date for you two next week!" Ginny smiled from ear to ear and Harry held back a sigh. When it came to it, there was no stopping his future wife.

The tips of Ron's ears grew a bit pink while he continued eating without a word. Hermione guessed he was trying to block out every word Ginny was saying. She didn't blame him and she didn't blame Ginny either. They were only attempts at helping her out with her dateless problem. Maybe Oliver Wood wouldn't be so bad. "That sounds like a great idea, Gin." Hermione said with a smile.

* * *

><p>Charlie leaned his head back against the cool wall behind him. The ropes around his wrists burned and scratched, he could feel the skin shredding every time he tried struggling free. His body ached and he felt tired, eyes hardly able to stay open. Licking his cracked lips, Charlie looked out the window of the room he was being held captive in. The moon was bright and sent an eerie chill through his bones.<p>

The door cracked open and Charlie took his attention off the night sky view. Cormac entered the dark room with a hard look across his face. "Charlie Weasley, is it?"

Charlie remained silent, and a bit frightened. He didn't know the man and he didn't know what he was capable of. All he could think of was the wand held underneath the dark cloaks and the fact he was without one.

"Your brother was in a relationship with the Granger girl, was he not?" Cormac asked sternly and shut the door behind him. He pressed his back to the door and waited for the prisoner's answer.

Afraid of upsetting the man even more, considering he had put up quite a fight when trying to be abducted, Charlie nodded hesitantly and looked down at his dirty pants. He swallowed and instantly regretted it; his throat had been dry and sore for hours.

"Do you fancy her?"

The question came as a shock to the Weasley and all he could do was look up at the man and lift a brow, confused. What did it matter? He had not thought about ever becoming more to Hermione than just a friend. She was a clever and brilliant young woman, but he had a job he loved and he didn't want to be held back or tear her up from her comfortable roots. Granted, asking her to let him be her escort to the wedding_ had_ been in his plans—but anyone can attend a get together like that with absolutely no strings attached. "I . . . don't believe that's a question a kidnapper usually asks his victim, am I right?"

The small humor found in Charlie's hoarse voice made Cormac roll his fists behind his cloak. He took a few steps forward, "I can ask whatever I want, you—"

"Now, now," Scabior slammed open the door and smiled, holding eyes with his partner icily. "I believe tormenting the guests is _my_ job, kid."

"I'm not a ki—"

"Hush now. Have you ever heard your own voice? It can be quite annoying." The plaid pants Snatcher cleared his throat and looked over at Charlie, ignoring Cormac's glare. "My." He rubbed a finger along his bottom lip while he took a chance to study their captive. "Aren't you an ugly one."

Charlie rolled his eyes, "That makes two of us."

Scabior ignored his comment and looked at the scars covering Charlie's face. There was no doubt there were more along the rest of his muscular body. Scabior could see parts of some through the rips and tears in his shirt. The bloke had put up a hard fight when they came for him. The Snatcher found it unsurprising and utterly annoying. "I'm guessing you keep those hideous things covered up with a little bit of magic, eh?"

"I guess you could say that." Charlie sighed and let his head hit the back wall once more.

"Hmm." Scabior used his wand to make Charlie stand. "Well, we have a job for you, Weasley."

"A job?"

The night air—where ever they were—was cool and a bit breezy. Charlie could feel the air tickle his skin and arouse the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck. He felt the need to look every direction as the Snatchers guided him farther and farther away from the old abandon house they had once been in.

The woods he found himself in looked all the same. He didn't see how any of them knew where they were going. It was dark out and it'd probably get colder later, Charlie had noted. One of the Snatchers nudged him on when he slowed down a bit at the sound of crunching twigs from a location he couldn't pin point.

Finally, the Snatches stopped and the werewolf and quiet one held him in place. Charlie shot a glance at them both. He dared to make a sound, too afraid of what the big one might do.

"Hope you're ready for this one, mate." Scabior turned to look at him with a grin and turned back around. The wizard held up his wand and cast a _Lumos_. Gradually, Charlie feasted his eyes on one of the most beautiful beasts he had ever seen.

A large, silver dragon.

It was chained in all different ways, putting a strain on its movements. Charlie guessed it was so it wouldn't hurt one of the Snatchers. He couldn't help but admire its beauty. The dragon was elegant and had the sharpest, clearest blue eyes he had ever seen on a dragon before. Charlie suddenly wondered if he was dreaming or not.

"We cast a spell on it so it can't breathe fire right now." Scabior informed.

"It's a magical creature—that can't be done." Charlie shook his head in disbelief.

Scabior stared up at the beast, "Oh, but it can. With the right kind of magic, that is."

"You mean," Charlie's eyes narrowed. "Dark magic."

"Dark . . . light . . . does it really matter these days?" Scabior noticed Charlie was going to debate with him again and he cut the redhead off. "You are to train it. Tame it. Do whatever it is you do at that job of yours. The Chosen One needs this one trained well—_very_ well. And I don't emphasize that for the sake of my life, but yours. Only yours."

Charlie swallowed and looked up at the beast as it groaned under its chains and shifted a little, repositioning its weak wings. "Alone? I have to train this huge wild dragon by myself?"

"I'll send Anton out every few hours to help you out. Don't worry, he's useful—he just doesn't talk much." Scabior walked back a few steps to stand near the other Snatchers. "You start tonight."

"W-what am I training it for?" Charlie asked quietly, but loud enough for them to hear.

Scabior lifted a brow, "I don't believe that rubbish matters. It's your life that's on the line. So do it right." He grinned. "Oh, and if you ever think about running away or escaping, that little bracelet around your ankle will send a curse up your body that will slowly burn off your flesh. Courtesy of the Chosen One himself."

Charlie looked down at the odd dark colored bracelet around his left ankle that he hadn't noticed was there before. He swore under his breath and looked back at where the Snatchers were. They only gave him one last look before heading back the direction they came. "Wait!"

Scabior turned around.

"I need a wand. I can't do this without a wand."

There was silence and Scabior cast Charlie's wand back to him and then continued walking. Charlie considered using his wand to get the bracelet off, but it would eventually be no use. He didn't know what kind of curse the Chosen One had used, or if there was more than one. He had no idea where he was at and who lived around—if any.

Sighing, Charlie turned around and looked back up at the dragon. He almost tripped backwards when he saw the large dragon head only inches away from his face. The dragon breathed slowly and blinked its eyes. Charlie bit his lip and slowly reached out his hand.

As his fingertips touched its scaly skin, the dragon only kept its stare and made a low noise. Charlie pursed his lips into a thin line and ran the palm of his down the dragon's long nose lightly, fearing for his life, but too interested to care. The dragon closed its large florescent blue eyes and Charlie felt himself smile.

Carefully, Charlie leant his head forward until it touched the dragon's own head. He took a deep breath and let his forehead lean against the scaly beast. Together they breathed in the cool night air. It was dark and the world seemed to only shed the worst colors of gray, but Charlie just closed his eyes, held his wand a little tighter, and looked for a brighter side.

Even if that brighter side happened to be the heated flames of a dragon. _His_ dragon.

* * *

><p>AN:** so it looks like Draco isn't the only one hiding some unwanted body markings! but it's okay, we still love you Charlie! :) i figured he should still have all those beautiful scars since he does work with dragons. plus, he wouldn't be Charlie Weasley without em! **

**i hope this wasn't TOO long of a wait! i'm sorry for any mistakes in this chapter . . . or any others. lol. i'm only human. **

**reviews? they're sure lovely. i love all you my amazing reviewers! :) you make my day!**


	16. Chapter 15

A/N: **Wow, don't I feel like such the bad person! I deeply apologize. Testing, testing, testing! That's the only excuse I can possibly give. That, and the motivation and inspiration had left the building for quite some time. :( But, thankfully, I worked up the creative juices and got this chapter out of it! Pretend we're making homemade orange juice. My brain's the orange . . . . . .**

**Anyway! I really do hope you guys like this chapter! Tell me what you think! **

* * *

><p>Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. She picked up some of her curls and let them drop against her bare shoulder once again. She studied her rosy lips and light spotted freckles across her cheeks and bridge of her pouty nose. Well, she looked to be normal. Her hair was still a bouquet of chestnut curls and her brain still functioned as if it knew no definition of the phrase 'lacking intelligence'.<p>

So . . . why didn't she _feel_ normal?

A few nights ago, she and Draco had a meeting about their plan to enter Seamus' wine tasting get together. Hermione had pointed out it would be highly conspicuous if they appeared there and Draco still looked like, well, _Draco_. The Malfoy had even admitted he hadn't seen most of these people besides Blaise in a little over two years. How odd would it look to suddenly show up at such a casual party after falling off the face of the earth for so many months after another?

Draco—in a stubborn, irritable way—agreed and they decided he would take on a disguise. Polyjuice had to be good for something, didn't it?

That night, Hermione had lied snuggled up under her own bed covers and replayed everything in her head. She didn't understand, though she knew exactly what was going on. She was supposed to be able to handle anything on her own. She was supposed to be independent and that only shed off the fact she was, as many said, the 'brightest witch of her age'. Now, she was stuck in a whole new battle that very, _very_ few knew about. She wasn't given the help of a whole army or her best friends this time around.

The Chosen One was attacking from under the rug. He was going to pop out of nowhere and take control. Voldemort had hundreds of people aware of his name—his power. This could possibly be worse than Voldemort altogether. If Hermione were to ask about a stranger by some title, they would think she was mad. Then, of course, she'd end up in the _Daily Prophet_: "The Brightest Witch of Her Age Gone Mad!"

Had she gone mad? Hermione was considering the thought. She was almost alone in all this. _Almost_.

There was Draco.

Draco and his shrewd, blunt attitude. Hermione didn't know what was worse. She was slowly starting to trust a _Malfoy_ and there was man searching for letters written by Voldemort himself. Merlin! What had the world come to? Surely these causes of events would only lead to a self-destruction of the human's physical and mental state of mind.

Instead of sitting around the Gryffindor common room with Harry and Ron, planning and plotting and laughing—she was juggling her life between work, the wedding and the letters. Back then, she always had Harry and Ron. They worked as one living organism. It was like clockwork for them. It almost came more naturally than something simple as eating, which Ron did plenty of.

Draco, despite his flaws, had a mind that was capable of making his own decisions. He had grown into a person that didn't need anyone. He was perfectly fine with being alone. He was content and never found the urge to grow a love so strong for someone, breathing itself seemed utterly impossible without them.

Perhaps it was Hermione just being silly and a tad bit emotional, but she envied that. It seemed that with every waking moment she was sitting around with the girls, discussing wedding details, she grew more and more soft to the thought of having a fellow of her very own. Alas, relationships never seemed to work in her favor. Every time she'd break down, leaned on Draco, she knew deep down he was only trying his best at being polite. He wouldn't push her away or say something neglectful—but she knew it meant nothing.

Alone, the entire scenario troubled her. At times she found she was happy and didn't need anything but her books and spells. Those would be with her forever—men could leave, forever. Other times, Hermione felt a bit lonely. She had a certain longing trailing behind her with every step and that made her irritated and grumpy. She'd just blame it on the weather or other womanly things that called for spoon fills of chocolate while sitting on the couch, warm in her pajamas.

What was she to do? She had become a liar and one that snuck around behind her friends' backs. She'd become a woman that spent almost half her time with Draco Malfoy. Oh, Merlin, she'd become a Slytherin!

Hermione shuttered and walked out of her bathroom. She was wearing her casual red, sleeveless dress with a thin black sweater and flats. Hermione smoothed out the skirt of the dress and grabbed her small bag and wand. She grabbed the potion next and Apparated.

* * *

><p>"Malfoy?" Hermione called but it came out only a whisper. "Malfoy!" She tried again. However, there was no answer.<p>

Grunting when she stumbled over his sitting room rug, Hermione marched into his bedroom and opened the door abruptly. The door slammed against the wall behind it and Hermione put a hand on her hip as she set eyes on Draco snoring face down into his pillow. It was exactly seven-thirty and they were running late to the party as it was.

"_Malfoy_!" Hermione spoke, but the Malfoy didn't budge in the slightest.

Draco shifted in his sleep seconds later and used an arm to heavily fluff his pillow more into a comfortable state. He made a small mumbling noise and then cuddled deep into his blankets. Just before Hermione could speak, he began snoring again and covered the side of his head with his arm, blocking out the light that was coming from the lamp on his bedside table.

Hermione noticed there were notes sitting beneath the lamp and she made her way over curiously. The handwriting upon them had gotten sloppier as it continued, but it was Draco's for sure. He wrote about the translated letter and names of people he thought could be the Chosen One out of people he knew personally. Such as: Astoria Greengrass, Dean Thomas, Scabior, and some others Hermione was familiar with.

"Her . . . mione . . ." Draco mumbled lightly in his sleep. Hermione turned her head at the sound of her name. A small smile grew on her lips when he said it a little more clearly.

Suddenly, Draco leaped upright, screaming like a madman. Hermione jumped back and accidently tipped over the lamp. Draco's head whipped in her direction, startled, and he screamed more as he flinched away with the blanket tightly covering his naked chest. He then realized it was only her and calmed down, "Salazar, you scared me, Granger! What on earth are you doing?" He demanded, throwing the covers away from him and stepping out of bed.

"I came to see if you were ready to go—which you obviously aren't." Hermione defended.

"Ready?" Draco lifted a brow. "Ready for _what_? It's bloody four in the morning!"

"Malfoy. It's only seven-thirty-five." Hermione gave him a bland look and he curled his lip, looking away as he she implied he was an idiot. "We have to get going! The party has already started. You know, the one Seamus is hosting and the location of the second letter."

Draco washed his face in the bathroom sink and lifted his head once done. "Oh." He dried his face. "Right."

When he began to rummage for some clothing, Hermione held out the small vial of the Polyjuice Potion. "Drink this," She directed and began to help him with the proper attire to wear.

"Side effects?" He questioned and popped out the cork. Draco sniffed the liquid and waited for her answer before he chugged the potion down.

"Only a new face and body." Hermione answered simply and picked out a nice looking button up white shirt.

"Ah," Draco nodded and swallowed it down. He cringed at the taste and gave a small cough. "Delightful." Hermione handed him black pants and the button up shirt.

"You have five minutes." She warned. "The Chosen One is probably sipping it up at the party and might even have his hands on the letter by now. We're wasting time."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Alright, alright." He made his way back to the bathroom and Hermione sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for him to finish. She heard the sink run again, the sound of a toothbrush against teeth and cabinets shut. There was a small crash of shampoo bottles and Draco cursed behind the door. Finally, he stepped out and Hermione's lips parted, which she hoped he didn't notice.

The buttons near the top of Draco's shirt were left free at the collarbone while he had slicked back his hair only slightly, still letting platinum locks fall to one side of his refreshed looking face. He hadn't bothered tucking in the shirt and Hermione didn't argue. It did his figure well, as did the way he instinctively scrunched up the ends of his sleeves to his elbows. Hermione could hear the sound of his dress shoes against the wood floor as he walked over to his desk where a small bottle of cologne sat. He gave a small spritz and tucked his wand away safely.

"You can stop staring now, Granger." He said absently as he reviewed over the notes Hermione had set back down where she had found them. Hermione glared, but didn't speak to her defense this time. Draco tossed the notes on his desk and said, "Alright, let's go. This potion will only last for an hour, right? We don't have much time."

Hermione gave a short nod and they joined hands.

* * *

><p>"The Chosen One . . . it isn't Scabior."<p>

Draco looked down at Hermione, standing in front of Seamus' door. She looked up at him and he asked, "How do you know that for sure?"

"I was with him for a good amount of time. He isn't the one." Hermione answered, completely sure. "The werewolf and Scabior were always talking about the Chosen One. Scabior_ can't_ be him. It wouldn't make sense. In fact, they don't seem very fond of him at all."

Draco's lips folded into a thin line and then he went, "Okay, fine. He can't be it—but I still don't like him. So he stays on the list, just because I say so."

Hermione rolled her eyes and lifted her knuckles to knock. When she glanced at Draco, he began to talk about what the party was probably going to be like. However, she found it hard to focus on the words coming from his mouth . . . when his entire face began to morph into someone else. Obviously, he failed to notice the change, but yet the odd look across her face.

"_What_?" He questioned.

"Oh," Hermione looked back at the door. "Nothing. I guess I just can't restrain myself from starring." The potion was defiantly not as strong as others she had contracted in the past. It seemed that only his face had changed, not his torso or legs. He was built like Draco—only with Oliver Woods' face. This wasn't good. Not good at all. This really _did_ mean they had a short amount of time to complete the mission. This also had to be the reason Draco hardly noticed the change.

This made Draco grin and smooth out his shirt. "Don't worry about it, Granger. Not many people can." When he winked, Hermione simply rolled her eyes and knocked.

Not even seconds later and someone answered the door. Lavender.

"Oh! Hello, Hermione!" Lavender Brown greeted and brought Hermione into a hugging embrace. Hermione awkwardly hugged back and breathed in relief when the hug ended. "I didn't expect to see you here! How are you and . . ." She trailed off and tilted her head to the side. "Oliver Wood?"

Draco started coughing hysterically then. Lavender beckoned them in quickly and offered Draco—or Oliver—some water. He accepted and she scurried away into the kitchen. When she was out of sight, Draco glared furiously down at Hermione. "_Wood_? Oliver Wood?" He whispered sharply. "You couldn't have picked someone more on _my_ terms?"

Hermione folded her arms across her chest in defense, "And who would you have had me pick?" Before Draco could answer, Hermione went on, "It was last minute. I was caught up with work and completely forgot. So I was tempted to take some of George's hair. I knew you probably wouldn't approve of being a redhead for a night. So, I took some hair from Harry's coat when I went to babysit Teddy again. Only, I forgot he had gone to talk to Oliver that day about taking up a new job at the Ministry." She added weakly, "Somehow, some of Oliver's hair must have ended up on Harry's coat . . ."

"Oh, well isn't that _lovely_!" Draco exasperated. "I could have been Saint Potter, but ended up as Oliver Wood. I guess I get lucky either way, don't I, Granger?"

"Just suck it up, Malfoy. Stop being such a little prat!" She swatted his arm with her bag. "I've given you a disguise and that's all that matters." Hermione heard Lavender making her way back over to the pair and calmed herself.

"Here's your water, Oliver." Lavender smiled and handed him the glass. Draco drank it thankfully, a fake smile plastered across his fake face. "Everyone's this way," Lavender lead them to the back of the house to the living room.

The couple's living room was a large size with portraits hanging on every wall of the two smiling and laughing, some even kissing. They had a large sofa and two chairs. Tables were set up along the empty walls with different bottles of expensive looking wine and trays of finger foods. There was a shelf of interesting looking antiques and a bookshelf near the entry to the kitchen behind Hermione.

Seamus noticed Hermione first and called out, "Hermione is that you?" He made his way over with a glass of wine in his hand. "It's been quite a long time, hasn't it?"

"Oh, yes, it has." Hermione agreed politely and smiled.

"_Wood_?" Seamus squinted his eyes to get a better look. "Can't say you look much different, mate." Seamus laughed and patted Draco's shoulder, in which Draco cringed silently. "Well, don't just stand around! We're just lounging about, really. I've never thrown this sort of party, but I figured it shouldn't be too hard." He chuckled, "Just bring a bloody lot of wine, right? So, drink as you please, just don't go mad while in my house. I'd like to keep everything explosive free."

Lavender laughed at her husband's joke and looped her arm around his back as his lifted around her shoulders. They walked over to the group of familiar faces and began conversing casually, still linked together. Hermione glanced up at Draco and he whispered, "Got a plan?"

Hermione thought a moment, "Get on the party's comfortable side. We have to fit in before we go snooping around. I'm sure the jewelry box is up in the master bedroom. That would mean coming up with an excuse to get upstairs. Question is: who's going to go?"

"I'll go first." He said firmly. "That way, if the potion begins to fade, I'll be out of sight and we can Apparate from there." Hermione agreed and they made their way to the groups of people.

Hermione noticed Neville and Luna talking with Dean Thomas and Cho Chang. Neville spotted Hermione and smiled, "Hermione! I didn't know you'd be here!" He greeted and made room for her in the conversation circle.

"Well I got a night off and decided to come." She said quickly, returning everyone's smiles. Cho looked rather pretty in her dress and waved happily. Luna stood next to Neville with her wine glass in hand, smiling dazedly with some jeans and a nice dress shirt on to match her bright eyes. Dean, however, looked rather hollow. His eyes looked as if they'd sunk in a bit and they were darker than usual. Hermione noticed he didn't exactly smile the way he used to. It seemed forced and lacked expression.

The five began talking about the wedding and Ron's next quidditch match. All throughout the conversation, Dean never spoke much. He smiled shortly here and there, his pail lips never stretching far. He chuckled occasionally when Neville cracked a joke, as well. When someone asked him a question, he would answer but then fall back into his silence.

Hermione wanted to confront him, but pretended not to notice until the time was right.

Meanwhile, Draco chatted with Seamus and Lavender, although he was way too distracted to actually pay attention. It wasn't until Lavender asked if he wanted to try some of the wine Neville had brought that Draco noticed Pansy and Daphne Greengrass sitting on the sofa, laughing around something someone had said. They looked exactly the same and he felt the need to hide. Thankfully, Draco remembered he wore the face of someone different and there was no need to coward away.

"Are you okay, mate?" Seamus asked, inching in a bit. "You look a bit pail."

Draco tore his eyes away from his fellow Slytherins and said, "Of course!" He put on another smile. "I was just thinking about that wine Lavender was talking about! I think I will try some." Before Lavender moved to fetch some, he added, "But, err, you mind if I use to loo first?"

Seamus chuckled, "Of course. But I think one of our guests is holding up the downstairs one. You might have to use the one upstairs by the guest room."

"Perfect!" Draco smiled and set his empty glass down on the table nearby. "I'll just tell Hermione where I'll be so she won't panic. You know how she is." He gave a smile and walked off from the happy couple.

Neville had just finished talking about a plant he had grown from two different seeds when Draco put a hand on Hermione's shoulder and she turned to see what he wanted. "I'm going to use the loo upstairs for a moment—"

"I knew Ginny had set you two up, but I didn't think the date was this soon!" Neville smiled and patted Draco on the shoulder. "I haven't seen you in ages, Oliver! How are you, mate?" He asked obliviously.

Hermione laughed uncomfortably and shrugged a shoulder, "The sooner the better!" She looked up at Draco. "You're great, aren't you, Oliver?"

Everyone was eyeing Draco now and he didn't break a sweat under the pressure. He casually draped his arm over Hermione's shoulders and nodded, "Oh yeah, fantastic!" Before long, everyone was back to the topic beforehand and Draco pulled Hermione slightly aside. "I'm going upstairs now. We don't have much more time. Be up there in five—"

"Looking good, Lovegood!" said a cheery voice from behind Cho.

Theodore Nott slithered his arm behind Cho's back casually and planted a kiss on her cheek. Cho looked a bit taken back, but never said anything against it. Neville gave a small chuckle and Luna smiled in thanks. "Wow, Granger! Here I thought you hadn't changed much—and you haven't—but it's working out for you great!"

Hermione didn't know whether or not to take that as a compliment, but she thanked her old classmate anyway. Draco looked at Nott and smirked. The bloke hadn't changed much at all either—same goofy smile just like back in the old days. Only difference was the girl under his arm.

"You better go . . ." Hermione whispered as the group started off talking about Theo's late attendance. Draco nodded and slipped away.

Upstairs, Draco spotted the bathroom instantly, but averted over to the master that was across the spare bedroom. Seamus and Lavender's room was a decent size with more moving portraits of them together in different locations around the world. The kissing ones made Draco look away in disgust. Moving away from the distractions, he spotted a vanity in front of the large bed.

Draco quickly began his search and opened a drawer connected to the vanity. Inside was a wooden box with erotic designs and a lock centered on it. "Merlin's sake," Draco grumbled and used his wand to open the box. It took several attempts, but finally the box opened and a soft melody began to play. "Stupid box!" He hurried and shut it again, only to find that it locked automatically. Draco groaned and began to maneuver it open once again with a little magic and frustration.

"What are you doing?"

Draco stood straight, heart pounding and sighed in relief when it was only Hermione. She closed the door as quiet as possible behind her and walked over to the sight. The two met eyes and Hermione saw Draco's had gone back silver. "Your eyes . . . we're running out of time." As if on cue, Draco's nose began to shift into his original point.

"_Great_, because that's exactly what I needed to hear . . ." He raked his loose locks of hair back and handed Hermione the box. "This bloody thing is going to be the death of me. Open it." When she readied her wand, he added, "Mind you, it does make noise."

Hermione said, "Thanks for the warning." She whispered something to herself and the box made a few clicking noises, and then opened immediately. In that short time, Draco's hair began to change colors and Hermione bit her lip. Setting down the box that played a soft tune, Hermione held up her wand and zapped Draco right in the face.

Tumbling back, Draco held his face behind his hands. "Warning next time!" He exclaimed, feeling a sharp sting that crawled down his neck and back up. Reaching over, Hermione removed one of his hands away from his face and smiled when he appeared to look like Oliver again.

"I put a lasting charm on the potion. Those don't last long at all. We need to hurry." She turned back to the rather large box and found that there were no papers or parchments inside, but average looking jewels instead.

They began searching through the jewelry. Hermione suggested they check behind the jewel itself to see if there was any sort of message inscribed there. Sadly, there was nothing. Draco lifted the box and looked at the bottom in case of any writing. None.

"Wait!" Hermione took the box and carefully dumped the jewels out onto the bed. Draco watched patiently as Hermione cleared out any smaller pieces. She then placed her fingers along the redish patted surface of the inside and used her wand to separate the material from the wood.

"Granger, you're going to ruin the—" He stopped talking when they uncovered the second letter, tightly concealed in the small space under the cushion.

"Brilliant," Hermione whispered and cast a duplicating spell on the letter. When she had it in her hand, she tucked it safely away in her bag while Draco fixed the box and replaced the jewelry.

"Let's go." Draco said, his eyes silver again. Hermione nodded in agreement quicker than ever and let him put the box back where it had been.

Before he could shut the drawer, Hermione cast another spell on it to hide any evidence they had touched anything. Draco smirked and opened the door for them to leave.

Just as the two were about to head down the stairs, Pansy exited out of the bathroom. Draco and Hermione came to a halt and Pansy set her eyes on the two sharply. "Well, if it isn't Hermione Granger." She said with a smile that was too cunning for her own good. "I thought that was you talking with Longbottom earlier."

Hermione swallowed and smiled. "Yes, that was me, but we were just leaving. I have work tomorrow, you see, and—"

"I must say," Pansy swayed a little closer, keeping her eyes locked with Draco's. He stood still and never flinched when she ran a long, bony finger down his arm. "I thought a guy like you would have had higher standards, Wood."

Hermione's lips parted and Pansy pretended not to notice. "Excuse me, we really must be going."

"Oh, please," Pansy tossed her dark hair away from her face. "_You_ might need to go, but that doesn't mean Oliver doesn't want to stay and play." She put herself face to face with Hermione. "There's only so much little Bookworm can do to actually entertain someone. Whereas, someone_ else_ might actually get a little farther than small talk, Granger."

Hermione's eyes narrowed viciously. "I don't need _you_ to tell me what you have concluded I _might_ be like, Parkinson."

Pansy let out an icy laugh, "Right, Granger, right." She put a hand on her hip. "Nice dress, by the way. What are you—like an A cup?" Amusement played behind Pansy's magically grown eye lashes and Hermione found herself more disgusted by the second.

Hermione balled her fingers into fists at her sides and sneered with great pride, "I'm sorry I refuse to fight against a woman of your age who insists on acting like some sort of stuck up teenager! We're all adults here, so next time you want to insult me—I suggest you do it with a little more class and leave my bosom out of it!" Taking a deep breath in the silence, Hermione tossed some curls over her shoulder and said, "And for your information, Parkinson, I'm a B cup and still bigger than you'll ever be!"

Draco's eye brows shot to his hair line as he glanced down at Hermione, smiling politely at Pansy before she brushed her shoulder while walking away. Pansy looked utterly put in her place and stormed off down the stairs past Hermione. "Well said, Granger." He said with a smirk that soon faded when he saw Daphne and another strongly familiar woman standing at the foot of the steps talking. They looked with concern as Pansy walked out the front door without a word.

Draco quickly pulled Hermione back from taking any further steps and rushed her near the bedroom door once more. "We can't go down there." He said frantically.

"Why not?" Hermione asked, confused at Draco's sudden reaction.

"That woman . . . talking to Daphne . . ." Draco swallowed and touched his face as his own features grew back in their proper places.

"Yes, what about her?" Hermione asked, strangely happy to see Draco himself again.

"She's the woman that poisoned me." He whispered in reply, not daring to look down the stairs.

"What woman? What are you talking about . . .?" Hermione thought a moment and then gasped. "The lady from the restaurant!" It clicked and Draco nodded worriedly. "Are you sure it's her? Positive?"

Draco nodded, "Defiantly."

Hermione was silent for a moment and then looked up at Draco. "Looks like we won't be saying goodbye to anyone tonight . . ." She slid her hand in Draco's and took a deep breath. Draco held on tight and they Apparated together.

When his vision cleared, Draco saw he was standing in Hermione's living room. Hermione walked over to the kitchen and pulled out some left over pie Mrs. Weasley had made her just yesterday. "Come on." She smiled and poured him a glass of water. "We have things to discuss."


	17. Chapter 16

A/N: **hey guys, this isn't exactly a super important chapter — but it _is_ Dramione! so, i still hope you enjoy it.** **i tried to lighten the mood just a tad, but still keep on the depth of the situation. like the fact they are a bit stressed and still can't figure out how to get along just right yet. heh heh. anyway, hope and pray i get chapter 17 up soon because i know what i have planned, i just need the motivation to type it! lol. thoughts? comments? rants? let me know!**

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><p>"Did you have another nightmare?"<p>

Draco's eyes shot up, catching in deep pools of brown. They were concerned and soft. He couldn't help but look back down at the list he was constructing. After scratching down a few other names of certain of people he figured to be the new enemy, he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. When he glanced back up, Hermione was still eyeing him slightly. Groaning, he said, "Was that question supposed to be answered?"

Now her eyes were narrow in obvious irritation. "So you _did_ have another nightmare."

"Merlin, Granger," Draco sighed. "Do we have to talk about this now? I'm exhausted and—"

"Oh and I'm _not_?" Hermione challenged. For the past few hours, she'd sat at her small table across Draco matching up the translated letter with how the original had went and attempting at using that knowledge to translate the second on her own. She knew Blaise wouldn't approve of his door being banged upon late at night, so she'd try and figure some out instead of wasting the time away. Sadly, it was harder than it looked. "All you've been doing is sitting there thinking of names and scribbling them down! Don't misunderstand, because I know the list will be of use—but honestly, we should worry about this just a little more."

Draco curled his lip and looked out the window by his shoulder. The night was dark, but he could still see the outlines of people passing by under the dim lit moon. He looked over at Hermione; her face hovered over the letter while her eye brows scrunched in concentration. Draco smirked, "You looked nice tonight, Granger."

Hermione tilted her head up a bit and glared, "Don't try to weave your way out of this, Malfoy."

His face fell and he sighed once more. "Pray tell when the day comes you'll _actually_ thank me for a compliment without the slightest bit of hesitation." Draco slumped back in his chair and linked his hands behind his head.

"I'd like to know the answer to that one myself." The witch stood and stretched, realizing she was still stiff in her evening dress. "But I suppose a goodnight's rest wouldn't hurt . . . maybe change into something less social . . ." She wondered off to her bedroom and Draco watched until she was no more.

Silently agreeing, Draco stood as well and made himself comfortable, tracking into the kitchen for a late night snack. He opened the white-wonder-box that kept things cold and saw that in the upper part that was much colder of the contraption, there was a multi colored box with odd objects photographed on the front. Curious, he pulled it out and looked inside. "What—?" In the box were nothing but colorful icicle-looking things. "Just when I thought Granger couldn't be any stranger . . ." Draco mused and took out one that was the color blue.

Draco put the box away and opened his icicle. Cold steam arose from the object and he sniffed it. There wasn't any particular smell and the wooden stick descending from the bottom of the icicle didn't burn his skin. Draco mentally slapped himself. If it was in Granger's fridge—it couldn't possibly be _that_ harmful.

Draco still had doubts.

However, he figured a cat would be his proper name for this occasion because this curiosity was too great to deny. Maybe it was the time of day. He lacked sleep and, as usual, there wasn't much to do. He was, after all, in _Granger's_ flat. So, taking a risk, Draco stuck out his tongue and licked the top of the icicle. To his relief, it actually tasted . . . _pleasant_. "Not half bad," Draco took another lick and then another. The icicle was absolutely delicious! Who knew ice could taste this marvelous? Draco stood in Hermione's kitchen, licking away at the frozen treat.

Hermione walked in just as the icicle was being finished off. "What are you doing?" She asked, standing in cotton pajamas and her hair pulled up in a sloppy bun. "And _why_ aren't you wearing any clothes?"

Draco looked down at his almost naked frame. He stood in only his boxers and socks. "It's how I like to sleep." He said flatly and threw the wooden stick from his treat in the rubbish bin.

"Were you just eating one of Teddy's popsicles?" She asked with a grin.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Granger." Said Draco, leaning against the countertop.

Hermione walked over and pulled off a small magnet that showed to be a mirror. She handed it to Draco and said, "Your lips are blue, Malfoy."

Draco's eyes grew wide in fear. "What did you do to me!" He exclaimed, touching his lips with the tips of his fingers. "It's hideous! Merlin, I look like some sort of deranged blue tree nymph!"

At this, Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're over exaggerating." She took back the mirror and placed it on the fridge again. "You ate a popsicle. It's like flavored ice. Teddy eats them when he comes over—although they usually end up all over his face anyway."

"My lips are _blue_, Granger. Blue!"

"It'll go away eventually. It isn't permanent."

Draco folded his arms but took her word for it. He'd use every spell possible before he let his lips stay blue forever. "Muggles never cease to amaze me." He mumbled, "Taking joy in eating something that changes the color of your skin."

As he made his way to her small couch, Draco noticed shelves hanging off the wall with moving portraits propped upon them. There were few of a man and woman he knew not, but figured they were her parents. She saw one of that old bloody cat she used to own. Others were off her, Potter and Weasley. They were smiling in every one. Most of them were from school, when they were smaller back in the early years of Hogwarts. He recognized her large front teeth and bushy hair that now looked like a cascade of thick curls. Back then he could have sworn a squirrel had made its nest in that hair.

Draco then saw a picture of Hermione and Harry without Ron, his arm around her shoulders as she laughed and he looked at her with a big smile. It looked to be only a year old, no more than that. He could see the cameras flashing and a small crowd behind the two.

"When was this taken?" He asked, pointing to the photo that had caught his eye.

Hermione took a few steps over and smiled at the moving photo. "That was the congratulations party the Ministry threw Harry when he made a job there for the first time. Ginny actually took that of us back in his office. She wasn't the only one though. Everyone was pretty proud of him that day." She gave a small shrug, her lips still curved in a light smile. "He had told me he would have never pictured it'd be_ him_ being this loved back when he was just a kid. He said there wasn't any possible way this many people found him the least bit attractive to be taken so many pictures of and that Ginny was only marrying him for the popularity."

Draco watched as Hermione scanned her eyes over some other pictures, remembering all the good times she had had. He looked back at her and Harry and suddenly asked, "Why wasn't he the one?"

Hermione looked over, a bit confused. "What do you mean?"

"Weasley never seemed to make the cut, did he? It was always Potter." Draco concluded, "Potter was always there—he was always the shoulder you could lean on." There was a pause and he said, "Why didn't you make your life easy and marry the one that could never hurt you?"

Hermione felt as if a huge weight had been dropped. She had never thought of it that way, most likely because she had never _felt_ it that way. They were close. They were best friends. She had looked up to Harry; he was almost like a big brother. He had grown into a fine, handsome man and stayed on a pure of heart path. He conquered what kids only saw in their nightmares, he had been braver than anyone she had ever met. And, as Draco said, he _was_ always there for her. Harry had been there through the thick and thin and was _still_ right be her side, even now.

Even through all that, Hermione had never, never once, considered choosing Harry in that manner. What would that do to their friendship? Merlin knows she and Ron still seemed to be on the awkward side, though their break up was what seemed to be forever ago. Plus, Harry was happy now.

"I . . ." Hermione shifted her weight to the other foot. "It never occurred to me in that way. It just wouldn't work."

Draco kept his eyes roaming over pictures while he spoke, "It just seemed like a plausible ending to the tale, don't you think? I mean, if you think about it—and I mean, _really_ think—Potter could have almost been labeled the bloke for you, Granger." He glanced down at the witch. "He never seemed to push your buttons like Weasley did, did he? He never hurt you or looked passed just how amazing you could be. In fact, he always noticed. He treated you how any woman should be treated."

Hermione licked her dry lips. "And how exactly do you know what a woman should be treated like, Malfoy?"

Draco chuckled, "Granger, please. I might be a Malfoy and my father might be a complete arse—but that doesn't mean I haven't learned from his mistakes." He folded his arms across his bare chest casually. "If I told you things to purposely make you happy, I'd tell you that you have the most beautiful curls I've ever laid eyes on and never once did I think those freckles of yours did any shame to such a pretty face."

Hermione didn't quite have the words to say and he continued, "You don't want someone that completely cuts you off, but you don't want someone that lays down at your feet and surrenders. In that, there'd be no challenge and I know you, Granger. Challenge is your middle name."

"Ron's different than you think." She managed.

"Oh, I believe you." Draco agreed. "He just isn't what you wanted to think he was either."

Hermione shook her head, "Before you get all carried away, I'd like to remind you that, as humans, we make mistakes. Some people chose to call them mistakes, but I've grown to learn it's all just part of the plan. Ron—being with Ron—it wasn't a mistake. It was just a bridge I had to cross to keep going. A wobbly one, but I made it over in once piece, so that's all that should matter."

Draco shrugged a shoulder, taking a seat comfortably across her couch. "I guess you could put it that way."

Hermione looked narrowly at the blonde, "And what about you? Last I checked, Astoria Greengrass was the woman in waiting for the next Malfoy title."

"Yes, and what a complete disaster _that_ was!" Draco scoffed. "Astoria was the complete definition of clingy. She gave me no thrill, no peace. I had to come up with excuses just to get out of my own flat. The relationship only lasted about a month and I refused to go through with any marriage. My mother was upset, but agreed it had only been in my father's best interest to engage me with Astoria. Together our families could rule the social world all around. We'd be the headline to every paper and prophet tons."

Hermione sat slowly down on the opposite couch, taking it all in. "So . . . you never loved her? Not once?"

"Maybe." Draco considered it. "But I could never tell. She had a nice body and was great in bed, but what did that prove? Malfoys don't marry for love, Granger. They marry for convenience. When I needed sex—she was there. See? Convenience. I would have eventually ended up with kids of my own, but that was because I'd need someone to carry on the famous line. More convenience: I had a perfectly good woman there to impregnate."

Draco leaned back with his hands behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles. "Anyway, that's all in the past. I don't have any heirs or a woman in my bed to shag when I please. Happy now?"

Hermione smiled at his casual tone. He didn't seem remorseful or angered by the event that had occurred. He seemed relieved. She stood then, yawning, "Maybe we both have some dating issues."

"Possibly, but just because I wasn't with Astoria, doesn't mean I didn't get a little shag in here and there. Women _love_ bad boys." Draco said with a grin, watching as Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically. "When's the last time Little Miss Bright Witch got a little something extra?"

"I'm not entitled to discuss anything like that with you, Malfoy. We might be fighting in another war together—but that doesn't give any such obligations." Hermione's cheeks flushed and she headed off to her room.

Draco called after her, almost half asleep on the couch. "Don't sleep in, Granger! We have a busy day tomorrow!" The door slammed and Draco fell asleep with a smile across his blue lips.


	18. Chapter 17

A/N: **Okay, people, warning coming up! This chapter, though I don't think it deserves the title "Rated M", is a bit on the heated side. So, just a fair warning: I WARNED YOU. hee hee. **

**Also, it is late at night right now, and I'm quite tired. So, if there are any stupid mistakes in this chapter, I am deeply sorry! I will reread it again and again until I am satisfied. But that will all happen tomorrow. You have been warned, once again.**

**Now, please enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

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><p>Draco rubbed his sleep crusted eyes and sat up, remembering he was currently on Granger's couch. The light from the open windows stung his eyes and he rubbed them once again. He yawned slowly and stretched his arms high about his head, covered in bed-head hair.<p>

There was a noise in the kitchen and Draco became instantly alert. To his relief, he caught eyes of Hermione frying something on the stove. She hummed a little tune and went about her business casually. "I didn't mean you had to get us this early, Granger." Draco mumbled and made his way over to the tasty smelling food sleepily.

Hermione looked up from grabbing a fork from a drawer and smiled at Draco brightly. "Yeah, yeah." She waved him off and continued frying the bacon. Draco noticed she wasn't wearing what she went to bed in, but instead a light green tank and some white cotton bottoms.

"Were your other clothes not comfortable?" He snickered and poured himself a glass of cold orange juice.

"It got really warm last night, so I changed." She finished up with the bacon and continued, "Unfortunately, when I woke up and felt rather hungry, I decided to change back into what I wore before. But I couldn't find my clothes anywhere—so I had to find some new ones. A bother, really. That's just more wash." She smirked and served him a plate of fresh bacon and eggs.

"Thanks," He said quietly as he noticed there was something off about Hermione. She seemed . . . at peace. "Are you feeling alright, Granger?" He asked, forking in some delicious eggs.

Hermione lifted a brow to his question, "I'm fine, Malfoy." She gave a small laugh and took a bite of her own food then said, "I thought about what you said last night." Draco looked up from his plate, standing in the kitchen while leaning his hip against the counter. Hermione did the same, but didn't seem so stiff in motion. "I think you have a point. Harry would have been the perfect guy."

Draco mumbled an "mmhmm" and saw she had grown a few inches closer. His eyes fixated on her smooth neck, craned to get a better look at his emotionless face. He saw the way her stray curls swept just above her heaving cleavage and he grew a bit fidgety. What was he doing? He mentally slapped himself. He shouldn't be looking at Granger that way! For Salazar's sake—look at her!

And he did.

A mistake was made that very minute. He could see her talking, but didn't hear a word, only here and there. Draco watched her rosy lips move to her words, stretching and bending, and occasionally moistened by her tongue when she paused after a sentence. Her eyes wondered around, never seeming to notice his beastly stare.

" . . . I guess it wouldn't be much of an adventure to be with someone I know would be a perfect fit, you know? I rather deal with the ups and downs of Ron Weasley than feel as if I've already grown old with another man." Hermione laughed a bit. "It must seem funny, me talking about Harry as if he's some boring person—he most certainly is not, but maybe it wouldn't be _so_ bad to have someone push my buttons every now and then . . ."

Draco listened to her zone off again as she pushed some curls that had fallen out of her sloppy ponytail away from her face. Her skin looked so soft—so inviting. He licked his lips and tore his eyes away. She asked him why he looked so distant and he just shrugged a shoulder, saying, "No reason, Granger . . ."

Hermione set down her fork and pushed aside her plate a bit. Draco heard the action and looked down at her plate, his silver eyes shortly roaming down to hers shortly after. They melted into his and he felt like turning away, walking to the total opposite side of this damn flat. There was no way this—Hermione Granger—was making him feel what he was feeling now. Blood raced through his veins in small bursts of fire, his skin boiling under her deep, brown gaze. His palms sweaty, his throat dry.

"Draco . . ." Hermione said in the faintest whisper, reaching out to touch his stiff shoulder.

Draco inhaled sharply. There was no turning back now.

With a quick, desperate motion, Draco's lips crashed down against Hermione's and she froze for a brief moment, taking the time to register. When he felt no reaction as fast as he'd wished, Draco pulled away, nervous.

Hermione wet her lips and gazed down at his chest before smiling back up at the Malfoy. She slid her hand up and behind his hot neck and pulled him down to her fulfill her eager sensation. She kissed him deeply, their lips taking joy in a tasteful dance between one another. Hermione began moving quickly and took stance on her tip toes, looping her arms around Draco's neck to get as close as possible.

Draco happily granted any access she wanted. He felt her tongue run along his bottom lip and went along with her demands. Running his hands down her curves, Draco slipped his hands beneath her top and rested them at the peak of her hips. He lifted her up and onto the counter top, both their plates crashing to the floor, but not critical enough for either to care.

Draco broke away from the perfect lips of the witch and moved his own to run down her smooth neck. He planted wet, hot kisses as he did so and pulled her tight against his chest and growing urge. Hermione made a small sound and slid herself back, silently making a statement she was in charge. Grinning against her skin, Draco found himself completely engulfed in the heated moment. She was going to be difficult about it—and he couldn't say he didn't enjoy that.

Hermione caught his face between her hands once she grew restless and locked her lips with his once more, her legs wrapping tight around his narrow waist. She felt his skin under her finger tips and dug her nails down his naked backside.

Draco only grunted in blissful pain, weaving his hand through her curls and taking out the band holding them back. They fell swiftly around her shoulders and he watched her chest heave up and down, breathing heavy with anticipation. Slowly, Draco allowed his long fingers to crawl up the witch's top and stop when they found the perfect swell to cup ever so gently. He dipped his head low and kissed the hollow of her collarbone, squeezing lightly onto her breast. He was going to take control, as a Malfoy always should.

Hermione held his eyes with her own and became aware he was making this into a game of dominance. He wanted to make her break—make her moan for him. Grinning, she nipped at his earlobe, ignoring the great feeling Draco's hands gave, and guided him back and away from her. She hopped down off the counter and started off to her bedroom. Hermione looked over her shoulder with an innocent smile, spotting a confused and flushed Draco Malfoy, standing in her kitchen with his boxers slightly bumped below his bellybutton.

Draco raked back his hair as his lips straightened into a firm line. Without a second thought, he marched after her. No one walked off on him like that—ever. It just wasn't natural.

"Malfoy's don't always get their way, now do they?" Hermione chimed, smiling at him brightly when he walked into her sun-lit bedroom.

Draco watched her toothy smile grow even larger when he returned it, his anger instantly fading away. She was too good to miss. He let his shoulders drop casually and began to make his way towards Hermione and her playful mood.

Just a few steps away, Draco froze and felt as if his entire vision shattered into a million little pieces. Standing near the window, Scabior grinned coyly. He held is wand and played with it between his long, dirty fingers. His blue orbs sent sizzling holes through Draco's paled skin and then time seemed to freeze.

When Draco blinked, Scabior had Hermione locked in his arms. She screamed, but Draco couldn't hear it. She mouthed his name over and over until finally he could hear the sharp screams. He went to move, but couldn't. And slowly, Scabior dragged her away with him. Hermione fought and clawed at the man, but he didn't look to feel a thing. She called for her want repeatedly, only to have nothing respond to her outstretched hand.

"Draco! Help me—please!" She cried, her hair falling her face in a waterfall disaster. She almost broke away, moving to run towards Draco but was instantly caught again. This time, Scabior cupped her chin tightly between his index finger and thumb, and then kissed her for a dangerously long time.

Draco's lips fell open and he coiled his fists at his sides.

Hermione grunted and punched at his chest, attempting to get him off. When done, Scabior removed his swollen lips from her and grinned at Draco, pride burning through his soul. "Malfoy's don't always get what they want, now do they?" And he vanished.

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><p>Draco woke with a jolt, sweating and full of panic. He stumbled off the couch and rushed into Hermione's room. Where was she? Had he taken her? "Granger!" He shouted and moved through the dark room without a thing in sight. Feeling at his surroundings, Draco found he was at the edge of Hermione's bed and he continued on. "Granger? <em>Granger<em>!"

Draco patted the blankets until he felt a bump that shaped into a form of a leg. He followed the limb and began patting even more frantically. "Granger?" He felt arms and gripped them tight.

Hermione's eyelids widened, startled, and she sat up quickly. She felt hands holding her tight and she flipped on the lamp, scooting away with the covers even quicker. "_Malfoy_?" She demanded. "What the hell are you doing?" Under the covers, she had her wand ready to strike.

"Merlin! You're alright!" Draco breathed a heavy sigh of relief and swallowed with a dry and sticky throat.

"Alright? What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Hermione had been in the middle of a nice snooze. Now was not the time—and she was defiantly _not _in the mood. "What are you doing in my room?" She asked and then took the time during the wait for his answer to study him. He was sweating, quite heavily. His lips had gone a ghostly white since the blue had faded and his hair amuck. From her distance, she could see his hands shake.

"I . . . uh . . ." Draco licked his lips and turned to leave. "Nothing. Sorry I woke you."

Before he could leave, Hermione jolted out of bed and took his wrist in her hand. "Malfoy." She said sternly and then changed her tone, "You had a nightmare. A bad one." When he stayed silent, Hermione let go of his shaky wrist and took a step back. "Why don't you sleep in here the rest of the night? I'll take the couch—"

"No." Draco turned to her sharply. He saw the look on her face and cleared his throat awkwardly. "I mean, uh, will you stay . . . ? With—" There was a breathless pause and Hermione waited for what she expected. ". . . me?" His voice was quiet, but thick with need.

Hermione hid a small smile and climbed back into bed, setting her wand on her bedside table. Draco didn't move and she cocked a brow at him. "Well? Come on, then. I'm quite tired, aren't you? We'll talk about it more in the morning."

Draco hesitated but felt stupid. It's what he had asked for, right? Putting thoughts aside—and trying to stare at Hermione's chest—Draco made his way around the bed and slid under the covers as well. He sunk back, feeling deeply comfortable in this bed than his own.

Hermione glanced at him quickly before she let the lamp go black again and snuggled deep under her covers. When she opened her eyes, facing Draco, she saw he was outlined in the darkness only by the bright moon beaming through her window where the curtains opened slightly. He had his hands folded beneath the back of his head and messy hair. She watched him breathe before she fell back asleep with a smile.

No, this wasn't weird at all.


	19. Chapter 18

"Could you_ please_ slow down?" Hermione grumbled once more, her lips cracking in the cold air with a slight sting. She dragged her feet even faster against the ground to attempt at catching up with the quick-paced Malfoy. At the sight of his hunched shoulder, defending himself against the cold for his own sake, Hermione could see he had no intention of slowing down. It had crossed her mind several times that afternoon that he had been acting irrationally strange. "Malfoy, are you even listening to me? Why couldn't we have just used to Floo? Or Apparated?" She had half a mind to do so herself, but found herself weighing the consequences of that choice. Surely Malfoy would hand it to her if she went against every little thing he instructed. In that case, she would have been ready to fire with everything she had, putting him right back in his bitter place. However, the fighting was becoming tired, and she knew there were plenty more fights to come.

Draco counted slowly in his head, praying she would drop the topic of whatever she had been saying like all the other previous times he ignored her. He kept watch of his feet gliding across the pavement, his chin tucked warmly in his large — yet scratchy — scarf. Becoming aware he hadn't checked recently for any signs of Blaise's home, he lifted his head. His silver orbs flickered anywhere but Hermione and landed on Blaise's front door only a few feet away.

Hermione noticed his stop and questioned, "Malfoy?"

He groaned, "Come on, Granger, and stop complaining."

"_Complaining_?" She exclaimed, highly irritated. "I was only asking for a plausible answer to this hiking in the freezing cold weather, Malfoy!"

"Just because you ask, does not require me to answer." Draco said curtly, continuing on with his walk.

Hermione gritted her teeth and walked ahead to take the lead. She stomped her way past the former Slytherin and spun around with a fierce glare. Her hand came in direct contact with his broad chest and she was silent, her eyes not only sending a message — but searching for one as well. "I think it's time you explain the reasoning for your attitude, Malfoy."

Draco looked down at her with a conflicted expression, his resistance to the truth almost engulfing him. He would not bow down to Granger; he would not simply comply to whatever she wished. "If I'm not mistaken, it was your idea to take this little walk in the beautiful weather." He defended with a sneer tone.

Baffled, Hermione stood her ground. "Excuse me?" She almost flinched at his action of removing her small hand from his chest. "I suggested we get some fresh air after breakfast that_ I_ so happily cooked. _You_ were the one that demanded we walk!"

Draco silently he agreed that he_ had_ said that. However, it wasn't for any stupid reason. He needed time to think over things, he needed some cold air and close warmth. He wasn't used to someone — especially Hermione Granger — at his side more than his mother was. When the dreams came, he had the rest of the day to confide in his inner thoughts and dissolve away the issue slowly. With Hermione constantly at his side, the empty feeling he craved was gone — the feeling of having no one around but yourself to worry about. Draco felt as if there was no time to confront the problem because it was filled with the constant bickering he engaged in with Hermione. Or, of course, taking care of the bigger problem they faced together.

Although the main threat was headed towards the Mudbloods, and Draco had grown into a family that resented such people, he now felt nothing certain for them. Sure, they were wizards and witches just like any other Pureblood, but that didn't mean he had to give every one of them a nice pat on the back. He had come to terms with their existence, and had come to the conclusion to not acknowledge the label all together.

Then there was the cause to why Hermione was in the cold with him, as well. Draco found himself in a guilt tied chain to the Gryffindor. She was a Mudblood, and she was a target to the very well-known Snatcher. He refused to let her Apparate or Floo anywhere without him by her side. Though he might not had been successful in the past — and he _really _had desperately tried to — he was determined to try his hardest the second time around. He was never a Saint Potter, but despite the fact he had never said the words aloud — they were in it together now. Something told him he would never forgive himself if he let something terrible happen to Hermione. It was something he found utterly insane, but even Malfoys have a conscience.

"What was your dream about, Malfoy?" Hermione asked suddenly when she noticed his stare had gone blank and absent, her voice soft in the light breeze.

"Nothing . . ." Draco cleared his throat and moved past her, careful not to allow his shoulder to brush hers. "Come on, we're almost there."

Hermione hurried to follow while inwardly cursing his long legs. "You're going to have to tell me sooner or later, you know."

Draco stopped abruptly and turned halfway towards the woman. "Have you ever considered _not_ being bossy for a day, Granger? I'm a grown man and I can guarantee I can make my own decisions now."

"Just because you can does not mean you'll always make the right ones, Malfoy." Hermione snapped, her eyes narrowing. "Also, I'm not being _bossy_. I'm trying to explain that every bit of information is critical. What if your dream had some sort of significance? What if it meant something we haven't considered yet?"

Draco bit his tongue and shook his head, going on with his walk to the Zabini home. A part of him wished to laugh at what she was saying, though she made sense. If he had his way, she would never discover anything that happened in that damned dream.

The unlikely pair ended up on Blaise's door step soon enough and attempted at a knock. The door remained shut and Hermione glanced up at Draco, "Are you sure he's even home?"

Draco's lips curled in his usual way, finding Hermione's attitude fueling the fire. "Yes, I'm _sure_, Granger. He has nowhere else to be, he isn't working for the time being seeing as he has a new baby he_ insists _he should stay home to help take care of. Plus, Parvati would surely be home regardless, seeing as she isn't exactly cut out to be a high class working woman in the society Blaise practically runs."

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled out her wand, mouthing something Draco couldn't hear — or cared to hear. With a click and creek, the door moved open slowly and Hermione cast an invisibility charm before she made her way inside. Draco glanced both directions and followed with a sigh. "Breaking and entering," Draco commented in a whisper, "How Un-Hermione of you."

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy." Hermione glared and summoned a _lumos_. Blaise's house was dark, the only available light showering through the light colored curtains. The living room and kitchen all appeared untouched, layered in an eerie silence Hermione noticed almost instantly. There was a small thud from the floor above and both head looked to the ceiling. "Upstairs," Hermione said in a small breath and began her way up the stairs.

"Granger, wait." Draco scurried after her, his heart beginning to race.

Hermione came to the top of the stairs and saw that everything appeared normal. It was still dark, almost darker than the floor below. The guest room door was open, as was the master bedroom door. She looked forward and saw the bathroom door was shut unlike the others. Her wand held tight, Hermione walked forward and felt the cool metal of the door handle within her palm moments later.

"Check there, I'll get the master." Draco said and ventured off with his wand ready.

Hermione watched him disappear into the large room. She felt a slight pang of worry before it was replaced with an alert tension as her eyes fell on the bathroom door once again. Quickly, she turned the knob and let the door swing open with her wand outstretched. To her luck, the bathroom was empty with darkness. Hermione placed a revealing spell to be sure and yet again, there was nothing.

Within the room to her left, anther noise sounded abruptly. Hermione felt skin crawl and turned, finding herself face to face with the baby's bedroom door. Her lips parted, the worst of thoughts dawning. "Blaise . . ." Hermione tried, but the name came out in the faintest of whispers. So far, no one had shown their face in the house. Hermione knew even Ron in the midst of a beastly hunger could tell that wasn't a good sign.

Hermione kept her lumos lit as she kept her bravery steady. With a slight push the door opened to reveal a man — a man curled against the wall with quiet sobs.

"Blaise?" Hermione focused her light more to the figure.

"Who's there?!" Blaise began to panic, his chest heaving for air as he struggled back closer to the crib. "Who's there? Go away! Leave now!" He shouted, his hands patting the wooden floor in search for his wand.

Hermione let the charm fade from her body and switched on the lights. Blaise shielded his eyes and looked away, pulling his knees closer to his naked chest. "Draco!" Hermione called, moving closer towards Blaise.

In the room across the hall, Draco heard Hermione's voice and stopped what he was doing. "Draco!" She called again and he hurried to its uneven tone.

"What? What's wrong?" He asked, bolting into the room with unsteady footing. Draco caught himself before his face hit the floor and looked at Hermione with a questioning look. She returned the look and pointed her wand at Blaise, sobbing quietly.

Draco's breath caught within his throat, "Blaise . . . mate," He grew closer slowly and cautiously, "Mate, what happened?"

Blaise's sobbing ceased and he turned to set his eyes on the blonde, "Leave." He said and then louder, "Leave! You've done enough!"

Draco appeared taken back, "What are you talking about, Blaise? What's happened?"

"They took them!" Blaise barked, his eyes mad with rage. Hermione felt herself take a step back, her heart leaping beneath her rib cage with a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. Parvati and their daughter? They had been taken? Taken where?

"Blaise," Draco inched forward and reached out his hand. "Come on, mate, we'll go downstairs and talk about this—"

Blaise ignored the inviting hand and stood, wand pointed directly at Draco's hard-expression face. "_You_." He snarled, "You've taken everything away from me. Everything! Do you have _any_ idea what you've caused me? What you've done?" The man drew closer to his former friend. Blaise twisted his wand slightly, only centimeters from Draco's nose, the blonde dead still. "You filthy, arrogant son of a—"

And his body fell to the floor.

Draco twirled around, startled, "Granger!"

Hermione had her wand positioned up as she averted her brown orbs towards Draco. "He was going to kill you."

"Oh, and suddenly you're an expert at everyone's motives under stress." Draco grumbled, raking his hair back through his long digits.

Hermione was aware of the tone he was using, the one he used when he was scared but covered the fear with something on the lines of being a complete prat — the only defense mechanism Draco Malfoy knew. Still, she replied, "That look in his eyes only meant one thing, Malfoy. You would have been dead in a matter of seconds if I hadn't knocked him out."

Draco curled his lip but remained silent, turning to look at the body lying unconscious on the floor. "And what do you intend to do now? At least if I were dead, we would have some sort of information to go on. Maybe he would have told you more; considering you weren't the one he seemed to give a damn about while contemplating my life in his hands."

Without answering, Hermione brushed by and knelt down beside Blaise. Gingerly, she placed the tip of her wand to his temple where she summoned the last of his memories. "Check his wand; find out the last few spells he used." She instructed Draco, focusing diligently on her own task.

Draco did as he was told, restraining from any more snooty comments.

Hermione, her brows squaring in concentration, steadied her breathing to take in what she might come across. "_Legilimens_." She whispered, closing her eyes. A small force was ejected through her veins, rushing through her body quicker than she anticipated. Moments later and the scenes in which Blaise had implied came flashing across her closed lids.

There was darkness, and then men in long, dark cloaks. They wore masks, the faces distorted in a gruesome way. Sparks appeared — flashes of lights and a jolt of compression across her chest. Hermione unknowingly began to hold her breath, the sight of someone gaining in. She couldn't make out his face, the shadows deceiving her vision. There was an echoing laugh and a scream, one of a woman's and one of a baby's. "_Blaise_!" A voice cried out, sharp and loud but fading quickly. Everything fell dark.

And then there was Charlie.

Hermione fell back on her bottom, a gush of air flowing down into her lungs. Her eyes shot open and she licked her lips, dry and quivering.

"Granger?" Draco had been facing the other way, observing the room with his wand and Blaise's in both palms. He heard the sudden movements and turned, both wands dropping to the floor. "Granger!" He was swift to his knees next to her, his hands moving to cup her face in attempt to get her to look at him. "Granger, are you alright? What did you see?"

Hermione swallowed and shut her eyes tight, the vision of Charlie's solemn expression fresh in her mind. "Draco."

Draco brushed a few stray strands of curls away from her forehead. "What did you see?"

"They have Charlie."


End file.
